The Kindly Ones
by Phorcys
Summary: On his return to school Harry is forced to discover some long hidden secrets about himself and his family. While Voldemort is building a new plan of destruction. HD. magical creatures.
1. Our Hero is Introduced

'**The Kindly Ones'**

**Our Hero is Introduced . . .**

Based on the hundreds of magical creature Harry/Draco stories that are out there. If it comes to close to any other I don't know of please tell, I am trying to be as original as I can.

Disclaimer I Don't own Harry Potter, this is purely escapist fun of the worst kind.

11/04/05 This has been edited and changed to fix up plot inconsistency's and my big mess ups. Now I know where I am going with the story little things needed to be changed. Also my grammer and spelling sucked.

"You should always trust your family."

Oedipus and Agamemnon

Enjoy!

It was the last night before Harry went back to Hogwarts and down stairs the Dursleys' were having a party. From his bedroom Harry could hear the melodious sounds of Vernon Dursley attempting to sing karaoke. The sounds of 'I'm too sexy' drifted up the stairs and Harry wished he could stuff his pillow into his ears. "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, too sexy it hurts." Harry could hear drunken laughter from downstairs and hoped his uncle wasn't drunk enough to take off his clothes. Someone started screaming downstairs, while Vernon kept singing. 'Oh no' mental image, Harry groaned into his pillow and hoped that one day he would be able to remove that picture from his head. Flipping over on to his back Harry pulled the book Ron had sent him for his birthday. 'Cannons Blast Off: 100 years of Club Quidditch'. The party had started earlier in the evening after Aunt Petunia had him set up the chairs and food keeping a keen eye on him to make sure he didn't do anything suspicious. Harry didn't want to see another cocktail onion even if it killed him.

A weight had been pressed down on the back of Harry's mind since the end of term when Voldemort had threatened Hogwarts with a Dementor army. That Harry stoped with a well timed newly learned spell. This end of school year battle ending with him losing all the feeling in the left side of his body for ten days. He should have his own room in the hospital wing. It had taken him two months before he walked with out a limp even with the magical potions forced down his throat by Madam Pomphery. One place he would be glad he never saw again was the ceiling of the school hospital. There were exactly 496 blue tiles above his bed.

Since that last battle a force had been pressing hard on the back of his mind. It wasn't the same as Voldemort's presence this was different, it did not feel conscious. Through the summer months it had grown from a sort of warm force to a blazing bonfire, the strange thing was that it seemed to grow each time one of the Dursley's felt like hitting him, or abusing him. Last night after Harry had been told about the party the Dursley's friends would be attending Vernon had backhanded him when he had asked "what friends?" The feeling had increased to a blowtorch to the back of his skull, when he had been forced on to his hands and knees to fight the urge to be sick. As Dudley slyly put a quick kick to his ribs that had almost made him think his skin was on fire. While the Dursley's were not hurting him,the feeling's were manageable but with each hit, and smack the weight grew. The music had begun to die down when Harry heard people stumble out the front door and vomit into aunt Petunia's prize rose beds, that he had to weed. "Show me the way too go home . . ." echoed from the front garden up to his window. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed . . ." Someone walked into the front fence and swore loudly. "Shit, what fucking idiot put a fence there, I had a little drink about an hour ago . . . " The party had held on until the early hours on the morning and Harry hoped that everything would quite down so he could make a quick dash to the bathroom. He just hoped no one had made a mess in there. Creeping to his door, Harry was glad the Dursley's had been too distracted with their celebration to remember to lock the door. Hedwig, hooted at him as he moved past her perch on the end of his bed. 'Shhh, be quite." Harry warned Hedwig. Sliding the door open Harry glanced both ways and dashed down the hallway to the bathroom.

Ripped streamers and half deflated party balloons were scattered all over the place and before he got a lift to Diagon alley in a few hours he could see he was going to be picking up the rubbish. It didn't sound like anyone was in the bathroom when he put his ear to the door and quietly relieved himself. Harry crept his way back up the hallway to his bedroom when the loud noise of a very drunk Vernon stumbling up the stairs could be heard. 'I'm too sexy for my pants, too sexy. . . ". Vernon was very, very drunk. Harry raced down the hallway hoping to get back before Vernon reached it. But he was too late. Vernon Drunk was Vernon Violent.

"Boy, Boy, what are you doing out of your room you little bastard. We told you, you weren't to leave it, Now you need to be punished." Vernon leant against the wall as he slid, walked his way down it. "Harry leapt for his room and slammed his door shut pushing his back against it to keep it closed. "Boy, you need to be taught a lesson, you can't go breaking rules it's just not right, you need to be shown whose the boss." Vernon mumbled as he slammed a drunken shoulder against the door, Harry dug his heels in but after another slam he was forced to the ground as the door swung open. The force of the blow flung Vernon forward onto his shoulder on the ground. Harry scrambled as far away from Vernon as humanly possible.

Slowing standing up, Vernon Dursley was gently swaying and mumbling about, punishing and showing the ungrateful boy, who was boss. Lurching around, Mr. Dursley haltingly pulled his belt out of the loops of his pants. Harry made a quick dash around Vernon for the door but was pulled back by a hand to his shoulder and flung to the ground. "Right, boy now this is for your own good. You need discipline. Obey the rules. Just stay still " Harry knew what would happen next and scrambled to his feet. Shoving an arm out he pushed out at Vernon who stumbled backwards into the doorway blocking it. Rushing forward Vernon brought Harry to his knees with a back hand to the side of his face. Harry hunched over on the carpet, holding his knees to his chest. Bring a large arm back Vernon brought the metal buckle down in a resounding thud on the back of Harry's pyjamas. Harry bit his lip and kept quite from past beating's he knew that making a noise would only make the bastard put more effort into it. "You need to learn boy."

With each strap of the belt, Harry felt the heavy warmth which had been building over the summer grow. With each flash of pain as the metal buckle bit into his back Harry, hoped that Vernon Dursley would trip and break his neck. In Harry's mind he could feel each strap feed the warmth, it now felt as though someone as welding molten metal to his bones. With only a giant force of will Harry was not screaming with the pain. . Harry was holding onto to the pain with only the mental equivalent of his fingernails. When the belt's strap hit a previous mark, the brunette bit through his bottom lip, and warm blood filled his mouth. He could feel what control he had over the heat being torn away with each cut from the metal buckle. As he tried to grasp the warmth to him he felt the last belt from Vernon cut into his back.

Vernon brought his arm back and forward putting as much force into it as he could. Stumbling as he brought the belt down, Vernon clutched the wall and looked down on Harry. The white t-shirt he used as a P.J top ripped and bloody. The boy-who-lived was clutching his knees and rocking backwards and forwards. Vernon pulled his arm back for one last hit, as a going away present.

A fire pushed though the cut skin it felt like falmes ate at his flesh, he could feel nothing except the burning which blasted through him. As Vernon dropped his belt in surprise he could see the boy, stop shaking and begin to glow a bright blue. Pulling back a foot, Vernon made sure he didn't fall with a hand on the wall and brought his boot around to land on the back of Harry's neck snapping it forward. The world to Harry had stopped all he felt around him was a bright red light which was burning into his flesh. It filled every fibre of his being, and overflowed. From a far away distance he could hear his Uncle swearing about freaks. The outside world was overwhelmed by the feeling of intense anger that spilled into his body from the fire. From the outside view Vernon saw a red fire grow until it surrounded the boy, shining outwards then drawing inwards it spiralled around the crouching figure of Harry. The colour of the flames changed flowing through the air sliding into a darker violet, sparks of silver started to grow in the dark colour outlining the boys head and back. It was like a moonlit sky.

Harry could see the silver sparks circle his head and cling to his skin, they were so cold in comparison to the fire which was heating the rest of his body. Opening his mouth Harry screamed as the lights surrounding him were drawn into his skin and made his form glow. Vernon stumbled out of the room as a wave of heat embraced him. It felt as though his eyebrows had been burned off. Slamming the door shut behind him He was too drunk to work this out. Feeling the heat spiral down Harry could feel it flow inward through his skin. The lights drifted into his body fading. From the outside as the lights faded a pattern began to appear on Harry's back the silver stars traced a pattern. Picked out in silver and midnight blue on his back were feathers, hundreds of feathers. In the smallest detail they covered his back from his neck under the ripped pyjama top to the elastic of his pyjama bottoms. The feathers were picked out on his back like a detailed silver tattoo. Sliding out of his position, Harry could feel the heat fade but stay now sitting peacefully in the back of his mind. The feathers were almost a tattoo, except the faint breeze which was drifting in through Harry's open window was making the feathers move. Exhausted Harry collapsed on his carpet and the world faded around him.

In a bedroom, far away from the events happening at 4 Privet drive, someone, shifted in their sleep. The room was large, a fireplace rested opposite the bed and heavy curtains covered the tall windows. In the four-poster bed which sat on it's own raised platform a sleeping body stretched and sighed in their sleep. Suddenly a shining light illuminated the room, shinning light on the heavy furniture which filled it. It emerged from between the drawn curtains of the four poster bed. This blue light etched in silver shone briefly and was extinguished. From the bed, a tiny midnight blue feather appeared on the corner of the sleepers right eye and disappeared.

Authors Note

PART THREE

I Have Finally settled on a single plot. Which will not change. So I have gone back and fixed up these chapters which I will admit were filled to the roof with grammar and spelling errors they were bad. And I found it hard to read and fix. But to the best of my abilities it is fixed.  
PLEASE Check Out My Other Harry Potter Story "Harry Hunting"

PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW


	2. Where our hero gets a letter

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Two_

**Credit, Savings, or Cheque**

Edited 14th April 2005

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated things belong to much, much richer people then me.

"Luck is my middle name," said Rincewind, indistinctly. "Mind you, my first name is Bad."

(Terry Pratchett, Interesting Times)

Harry was aching when he woke up, stretching he was careful not to touch his back the cuts and bruises from the belt were going to take him ages to clean before he had to fix the house up after the party. Waking up on the carpet of his room a sharp pain flared in his right hand looking down Harry saw Hedwig nipping his fingers. "O'kay, I'm getting up just give me a second." Slowly easing himself into a sitting position. Harry waited for the pain to start in his back, but it didn't. He couldn't feel the usual grinding pain he felt when ever Vernon belted him. Rubbing a hand through the sleep in his eyes the boy-that-lived sighed. He couldn't remember what happened after Vernon started belting him last night.

Why is it that bloody heroes all seem to come from tortured pasts why couldn't he have had a happy childhood. Some one out there hates me Harry thought. When he got older and the Dursleys' had no hold over him what fun he would have showing them his gratitude. Harry could only feel bone aching weariness in his body. Even the feeling of heat which had been building all summer in his body was gone leaving only a mild warmth radiating from his chest. It was almost pleasant. After grabbing some clean clothes Harry crept down to the bathroom. Once inside he eased the ripped P.J top over his head in case he was just in shock and the pain would start at any moment. Taking a deep breath Harry turned his back to the mirror and braced himself, then he gasped. His back was covered in a tattoo of hundreds and thousands of feathers and any wounds were gone. Placing a hand on the basin in front of the mirror Harry braced himself and peered at his back. The markings, were a midnight blue the feathers etched out in silver detail. 'This was not happening, the world was strange enough as it was without him having a back covered in tattoo. Well it looks like he had found out what had happened last night. Scratching at the top of the feathers on his shoulder Harry could feel a silkily feeling where the feathers sat. Harry sighed, and pulled a hand back through his hair making him yank his hand out. His hair had wrapped it's self around his hand. Harry just closed his eyes and hoped that nothing else would happen today. Fate looked down from her easy-chair as she chowed down on some fresh buttered popcorn rubbed her palms together and smirked.

Harry couldn't deal with this right now, he needed to clean the house and be out the door so he could get to Diagon alley. When he could stop and think he would. Denial is a nice place to visit but you don't want to live there. Quickly getting dressed in the nasty baggy clothes left from Dudley. Harry noted the feathers trailed down his back in the shape of wings reaching the back of his knees. He made sure that everything was all covered. Just what he needed was for the prat to see the markings. It was a quiet household as Harry crept around getting ready to leave and cleaning up after the party. After he had tossed the last black rubbish bag out by the rubbish bins Harry cooked a fried brekkie. The rest of the household woke up slowly Vernon and Petunia stumbled down the stairs looking like death warmed up. Harry spoke up, "You know I hear tomato juice and raw egg are really good for a hang over, or how about some greasy mushrooms and garlic. That'll fix you right up." Vernon and Petunia's faces turned a vivid shade of green and fled back upstairs to the bathroom. Once every thing had been cleaned up Harry dragged his trunk and Hedwig's cage outside and into the back of the car. It took another hour before Vernon dragged himself out of the house, wearing dark sunglasses. Harry started to hum 'I'm too sexy.' "Boy Shut, the hell up. I'll drop you off at this place you need to buy your school supplies and then your on your own. So long ,fair well, fuck off. You can make your own way to the train station." The rest of the trip passed with Vernon quietly hunched over the steering wheel cursing the sun and sucking back cigarettes.

Dropt off by Vernon in the general area of The Leaky Cauldron, Harry found his own way there and dragged his trunks through the door. Has no one heard of putting travel wheels on these things. The barman Tom was behind the counter wiping down glasses and was the first one to spot Harry coming through the door. 'Harry Potter, Greetings, what brings you here on this fine summer day?" Harry grinned at the friendly barman and stopped dragging his trunk along. The rest of the people in the bar looked up from their drinks to stare then returned to them. No one who is still in a pub that early in the morning really cares who comes through the door.

"Oh, my uncle just dropped me off to pick up my school supplies. Could I stay here the night I'll be getting the train tomorrow."

"Sure, I'd be happy to put you up for the night. You can put your trunk up now if you want and go do some shopping." Harry grinned it was nice to be around people who didn't treat him like he was something the cat hocked up and had then dragged in on the carpet. With his trunk and Hewig's cage carefully stowed away in an upstairs room Harry went off to do his shopping. He had to get new copies of Ralph, F.H.M and other healthy reading for teenage boys.

Tapping the right bricks Harry, walked through into the shopping centre of the London wizards. A steady crowd of strange and unusual people filled the narrow streets. The first thing Harry needed to do was get some money out of Gringotts. Walking into the impressive building Harry went up to a clerk writing at a table. "Excuse me but I would like to get into my vault." "Name please"  
"Potter. Harry."  
"Key Please"  
Harry held out the key and watched the clerk stare at it then return it to him. "It appears to be all in order. Follow me." Hopping down from his high stool, Harry followed the clerk to the roller coaster ride that would led him to his vault. I wonder if there's only one bank for wizards if that would be called a monopoly. Pulling to a sharp stop in front of the door to his vault the clerk carried out the necessary magic and Harry walked into the gold filled room.

Every time he walked in Harry was always blinded by the wealth that was piled around him. Dreams of what he would do with it if he had the chance to really spend it always occupied his first few minutes when ever he first entered. Hugh Hefner type dreams filled the young teens mind. For this reason he completely missed the polished wood and brass case sitting in the middle of the vault. Reaching for the bag he had brought with him to cart some galleons and sickles back with him Harry tripped over the box, ending up with his face in a pile of Knuts. Turning over Harry finally noticed the box he had never seen before. Sitting up he pulled the wooden box towards him. He hadn't spent that much time in the vault before but he thought he would have noticed this sitting right in the middle of the floor. A little piece of paper was taped to the top of the box, Harry carefully ripped this off it said. "To whom ever it may Concern. . . " 'Oh real helpful'

A small ornate brass padlock kept the box shut, Harry touched it with a finger and the lock sprang open. Sliding the padlock out Harry eased the box open. Inside were sheets of paper sitting on top of something else, Harry pulled the first sheet out and started reading.

_"Greetings, to the one who finds this box._

I have left all the information and help I can to the one who follows me. This box will only appear to one of my descendants who is an 'Erinyes'. I will assume you have no idea what this means. As 'Erinyes' we are an ancient magical race connected with the 'Parcae', and 'Moirae'. traditionally we were know of in Ancient Rome as Furies or Eumenides, 'the Kindly Ones'. Myths have us as living in Hades, punishing the lawbreakers with whips and snakes. Our past has been glorious we served as hunters of people who trespassed on the laws of the world. For many generations we served as the bounty hunters of the wizarding world but time was not kind to us and after many millennium our race has been forced to the edge of extinction.

One day I fell in love with a human wizard named Charles Potter. I knew there was a chance that my bloodline would continue in my descendants. You will have come into your inheritance sometime if you are a girl in your early teens. While if you are a boy, it will take a great physical pain to force the change because of this Male 'Erinyes' are extremely rare.

Physically our race is similar to the human wizards, the female's have feathered wings and claws, the males wings are hidden in their backs and are not physically manifested unless called upon. Watch out for your teeth, we have retractable fangs, which help us identify our mate, but also carry a mild narcotic to other races. Our ancient ancestors hair was partly made of snakes but cross-breeding with other races has changed this, but our hair is still semi-aware and cannot be cut with non-magical means. Your physical appearance will have also have been subtlety altered with the change. Other changes may occur to you descendant, as I do not know what the future has wrought and what my descendants may have married.

The power of the Furies is born in pain but carried out with love. Once we discover who our mate is we will protect them against all. Unlike the Veela and other magical races we can not smell or sense the one who is our life-bond. Fear not their Blood leads us to them, released in passion it will identify the one with the feather marking. From the time of your first awakening child-of-mine you will feel an urge to find your life-bonded. It is important that you do find them for our power over our emotions are closely linked to them.

I leave in this box all I know of our race and what else I thought would help you. In the bottom of the case lies my whip. This has been passed down my family line for many centuries and is a precious possession. It can only be used by one of the race of 'Erinyes'. This whip is called 'Podargo'. And has been used to enforce the will of our law for centuries.

I hope that the one who holds this box in there hands is happy and free to live their lives as they wish. May the Gods help you because your going to need.  
Yours Sincerely

_Tisiphone Potter_

Harry tipped the box up and stared at the black leather whip, necklace, silk rope, glass bottle and paper that fell out. You know he never should have hoped that nothing was going to happen today it was like a death sentence he would have been safer if he had said 'lets' split up' in a b grade horror movie. If his life wasn't enough of a car wreck already he was going to turn into a wizard bounty hunter. If fucking Voldemort wasn't bad enough. Leaning over Harry begun to bang his head against the floor. Fate cackled to her self and settled back to enjoy the show.

In a small room in Hogwarts the walls were covered with carvings. We don't want to take to close a look at those carvings. Let's just say they make 'Debbie does Dallas' look like Sesame Street. The wood the walls were made of was thick with them. A candle sat on a little table that sat in the centre of the room. It's light shone on the carving's making seem to writhe in the flickering light. A body was peering into the candle flame chuckling. or maybe that should be giggling it was too close to tell. An "Erinyes' had awoken his imprisonment was nearly over.

Authors Note

This chapter has been fixed up and changed to fit the final plot. Thankyou for reviewing everyone.  
PLEASE KEEP READING  
Tisiphone is traditionally the name of one of the three original furies.  
Greek myth is going to reappear quite often or as often as I can make it.  
Have A Look At My Other Harry Potter Story or even my Ranma 1/2 stories.  
Review pretty please.


	3. Shopping makes the world feel bright

The Kindly Ones

**Shopping**

**Attention**

This is the first chapter of the new version. From here it will branch off to what it was previously. If you are looking for the harry hunting plot. It is now under the title 'Harry Hunting' and you can find it at my profile.

Disclaimer

I have a no right to write anything about Harry Potter. But you can't top me so Nah.

Cruelty has a human heart,  
And jealousy a human face;  
Terror the human form divine  
And Secrecy the human dress.

A Divine Image: William Blake

Time to pick up his supplies. It was the start of his once a year shopping trip. While a part of his mind was still banging it's head against a brick wall and going why me, why me the rest of his mind was absent mindedly studying the shops on Diagon alley. Always before he had gone with someone else hanging over his shoulder telling him what to buy and where to go. But today he was by himself. Pushing the hysterical voice further down in his mind, he tried to think of what he really needed to buy for once.

Every year he brought school clothes, and the school supplies while he survived on what he got from the Dursley's for his other clothes and essentials. When he needed to use shampoo and all the other stuff you don't think about he used the school supplied toiletries but for once he wanted a choice in what he wore and what he had. If the fact that dentist bills would cost more than a new tooth brush he probably wouldn't have one of those. What had he ever brought for himself, it was always something someone else picked out or told him to buy that he paid for. It just wasn't the same as going out and picking his own things. There comes a point when no one wants their Mum picking their clothes for them.

Madam Malkins was doing a booming trade in school robes for Hogwarts students and Harry thought he recognised one or two that were standing in the store. Just a little bit further down the street Harry thought he had found a store that he could by pre-made clothes that he would like. A manikin was in the window but instead of standing still like the one's in muggle stores this one moved and did different things. One moment he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in Black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt with white writing saying. ""I'd explain it too you but your brain would explode." The next the manikin was wearing a pair of loose kakhi cargo pants and a baggy army green shirt with dusty grey paint mark splashes all over the front and was standing jumping in place. Above the door a sign declared it too be Blake's Clothes and Accessories. Walking in light flooded the single room, and Harry could see seven clothing racks devoid of clothing lying next to them were seven books sitting on a little plinth. When Harry walked in a sales girl was sitting behind a counter at the back, folding a t-shirt. _A/N Is that all they ever do, and how do us normal mortals fold clothes like that_. As soon as he walked in a small bell above the door gave off a pleasant ping and the sales-girl came over to Harry who was wondering where the clothes were.

"Good Morning. Can I help you?" Harry smiled.

"Sure, I was just looking for a couple of things, I lost a lot of stuff over the break and was just looking." The sales-girl who's name tag that was flashing a bright neon green colour said she was called Alipes, and was here to help. Walking over to an empty rack the girl picked up the small book sitting beside it.

"Certainly are you looking for anything in particular. We cater for a wide range of tastes though we specialise in young male clothing." Harry looked at the empty racks.

"I'm looking for a bit of everything, pants, tops, shirts, what ever. "

"Do you have a particular favourite colour, or style and what size do you prefer?" Harry pulled a hand through his hair and shuddered as it gently gripped his hand.

"Oh, dark colours I guess, I don't mind writing but no patterns and pretty much plain I guess. I don't care about size as long as it fits and is not to baggy. I was just wondering though were are your clothes?" Laughing the girl flips open the book and states firmly

"T-Shirts, black, blue, green, grey, shades 37 down. Plain, logos, included. Size medium large to large." Suddenly clothes started streaming onto the rack from no where and before Harry knew it, it was full. Filled with clothes on clothes hangers.

Surprisingly it took Harry longer than he thought to pick out clothes after never having the opportunity before, to having free range, it took him a little while to actually pick what he wanted. The store had changing rooms and Harry got into a set taking off the nasty off casts given to him by the Dursley's . A pair of blue jeans with some fading, and a black t-shirt with the words. _'Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Fuck your life story show us your Tits._' He had picked up a few beanies and caps as well. As he had noticed his hair when he was changing in the mirror moving as if a breeze was stirring it. Slamming a military green beanie over his head Harry left the shop with several bags shrunk in his pocket. Clothes were just the beginning, he had never got birthday or xmas presents from his family and that's a lot of presents to catch up so he thought no one would care if he brought something for himself. The store's were calling for him. Lucikly a small voice of sanity stoped him from buying the more expensive things on offer like the personalised broomstick with custom bristles and inlayed handles. But he did buy all the little things that at some point he had wished he had the time and money to get.

Stoping outside Flourish and Blotts Harry grinned for every text book he had had to buy there was a novel he had had to pass up. The shelves towered above him in books. Passing through the rows Harry began picking through some of the books that he had had an eye on. Squatting down, he didn't notice another person walking down the row scanning the aisles. The inevitable happened and both shoppers slammed into each other, Harry was forced onto his side, while the other person fell face forward over Harry's back. Looking up Harry meet the clear grey gaze of a pissed off Draco Malfoy. "Watch where your bloody going you moron." Sitting up Harry watched Draco pull himself to his feet and dust off his robes.

"Oh give it a rest you wanker. Why don't you go back to kissing you fathers arse and leave me alone." Swiping a hand back through his hair Draco scowled at Harry.

"Coming from the boy who would fuck a sheep if Dumbledore told him too you really shouldn't say anything." Scrambling to his feet Harry leaned towards Draco.

"So what did you do over the holidays, kick puppies and drown kittens in a sack. Grow up you weed." Stepping backwards, a slash of discomfort passed overDraco's face and then was gone.

"Potter I don't know why you keep coming back to school it's not like anyone wants you there. In fact I think more people would be happy if you disappeared off the face of the earth then if you lived. Everyone loves a martyr." Harry grabbed the book he had been looking at off the shelf.

"As fun as it has been trading witticisms with you I think you should fuck off and die now." Turning in opposite directions the two red faced boys stormed off.

_**mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm**_

A dark morning woke Harry as the sounds of the Leaky Cauldron floated up the stair way and into his room. The heavy blankets that the Leaky Cauldron supplied showed in sharp relief the thin rags the Dursleys' supplied him with during the summer. While the idea of not being truly human still sat like a dark stain at the back of his mind the idea that he wasn't in the same species as the Dursley's brought a smirk to his face. Snuggling deeper under the covers Harry wished for a moment that he could just stay here and leave everything up to other people. Why did he have to deal with it when he could be asleep. The bed at the Leaky Cauldron was the most comfortable he had been since the start of the holidays. And as he had changed after Vernon's beatings all his bruises had disappeared. A slight ache he hadn't felt since he had had growing pains had settled through his arms and legs but he though he deserved it after the amount of shopping he had done after visiting Gringotts. This was good, but it still did not make up for the fact that he had a mate out there some where who had no idea who he was, or even cared. Maybe their are counselling sessions for things like this. Where everyone that discovered that a power beyond their will had decided that this person was going to be their mate. No matter what, I'm sure the meetings would be fun. A soft coo from Hedwig reminded him that he needed to get his arse into gear and get downstairs. He didn't want to miss the train. Though this time he wouldn't be stupid enough to fly Mr Weasley's car to Hogwarts. A simple Owl to Dumbledore would have sorted that problem out.

It didn't take long to gather all his things together and carry his case downstairs to the bar. It was strange but today he found it easier than he had yesterday when he arrived, not a great deal but it was just noticeable. Only the extremely serious drinkers were still occupying some of the cramped tables and Harry was practically by himself as the only thing these guys saw was pink elephants. A large sundial sat on the wall, and even though they were inside and the shutters were drawn shut, a shadow on the face of it said that the time was a quater past seven. One thing he was going to enjoy no matter what when he got back to Hogwarts was sleeping in on the weekend. Bed is good. At the bar he ordered a large cooked English breakfast, the works. Tomato, sausages, bacon, steak, kidney and chops. Toast, fried blood sausage, and piles of fried potato. It was practically a coronary on a plate. Licking his lips Harry dug in though an overwhelming part of his mind was thinking that it would all taste much better if the steak was just a little bit rarer.

A slow taxi ride from the Leaky Cauldron, Harry cursed London traffic and went through this years charms text while the driver indicated his vast displeasure often with instructive hand gestures to the other drivers. The Taxi pulled up quickly in front of the central station, and was off before the driver behind could yell more than five swear words. Soon he would be on the train to Hogwarts, his second home. But looking at the first that's nothing to boast about.

**Authors Note**

I'm sorry for the split but I shouldn't have tried to force the whole second plot in there any way. So now there are two stories. I will finish the other before I get into this one and every thing should be back up in a few days. Harry Hunting can be found at my Profile. Thankyou very much for reviewing. Thankyou so much.

If you don't like the spelling please tell me or become a beta.  
Please review and tell me what you think of the split.


	4. Sweet Dreams are made of these

**Chapter Four**

**The Kindly Ones**

_Sweet Dreams are made of these . . . ._

Disclaimer

I own nothing. Harry Potter and all other recognisable add ons are the property of much richer and funnier people then me so don't sue me because I am small and insignificant.

"The trouble with life is that there's no background music"  
Anonymous

The only noise that broke the silence of the big bedroom, was the gentle snores of a the sleeper. A giant four poster bed, sat on it's raised section of floor. The gentle snores slipped through the heavy green and gold velvet curtains surrounding the bed. The room and not decorated in a particular style it just looked like a place that had had furniture added to it over a very long time. A Queen Anne settee sat next to a Ezy- boy chair in front of the fire. The walls were the same nextto oil painting's of long forgotten relatives and country scenes sat next to modern posters of sports stars and entertainers all plastering the walls. A heady scent of Sandalwood drifted through the room. Several large glass windows took up one wall of the bedroom, and an ill closed curtain whose fabric matched the lush velvets used in the bed curtains was open slightly and a sun beam shone through catching the floating dust in it's beam. As chance would judge it, the sun beam slid as if it were treacle over the room and slipt through a crack in the bed's curtains and found the sleepers eyes. "No evil sun light bad." the waking sleeper mumbled and rolled over burying their head in a pillow. But the sun beam had done it's evil work and they were now awake. A new day dawned and it was time to get out of bed and face the world. Could life be any better.

Crawling over the bedcovers, the sleeper shoved a curtain to the side and slowly made his way out of bed. With eye's still mostly shut he stumbled over to a door on the opposite side of the room, knocking into several chairs and tables as he made his way over. Looking at the door it took the sleep walker a few moments to remember how to use a door knob then a couple more to turn it. On the other side of the door a gleaming realm of marble and gold leaf greeted the boy. Large windows were open and shone a bright sunlight into the bathroom. A huge bath took up most of the room, it was practically a small pool, but it was emptyin the centresmall gold statue of a water nymph and a cornucopia would have let water fill the bath but the stumbling sleeper by passed the bath and instead made their way to a milky glass sided shower. Etched into the glass sea creatures played picked out in bright glass colours. With a quick turn of a knob and the shower started to fill with steam. Slipping out of the silver boxers he had been wearing to sleep in the sleeper, stepped into the shower and as the water poured down on their silver head, awareness slowly poured into their grey eyes. Till finally Draco Malfoy was awake. With a quick verbal order a wizard radio started up and music flooded the bathroom. If you listen closely you can hear Draco singing along to a wizarding cover of a popular muggle song. "I'm a believer, I couldn't leave her if I tried." Draco's light voice that still couldn't hit any high notes floated through the bathroom. Deep forest green towels were lined up on a rail beside the shower and stepping out Draco grabbed a couple and dried himself off. Catching his shoulder length hair up in a twisted towel.

Sitting down to a light breakfast opposite his mother,. Draco had a plate of toast and tomato's with a fine bone china tea cup of hot sweet tea in one hand. Staring at the plate he watched his mother across the table as she sipped on her own coffee filled with espresso so thick as to float a spoon. No one in the Malfoy family were morning people. As the morning sunlight hit her face, Draco's mother gave a pained little smiled sipped her coffee. "Draco what have I told you about entering my dreams without my permission." Draco swallowed his toast and grinned and spoke in slow monotone as if it was something he had said many times.

"Not to do it, because it is impolite to violate someone's privacy and Malfoy's are never impolite. Raving lunatics but never impolite." Narcissa sat her coffee mug down,

"Now that's unfair your father is not a 'raving lunatic' he just has these strange ideas. That no one else understands." Draco laughed and picked up his tea cup.

"It wasn't so much that he had strange ideas Mum. It was just that against all possible evidence he still supported Voldemort Dictatorships never last for long and those that surround the dictator always end up dead. He should have paid more attention to muggle politics or any politics for that." Picking up the paper that was sitting beside her plate Narcissa flipped through the pages.

"Honey, are you going to go into Diagon Alley today? I know you've been putting it off for a while." Draco swallowed some more tea.

"I can't really put it off for much longer can I, I have to be on the train tommorow. People shouldn't judge me because of my father. It's not like insanity is hereditary?" Narcissa didn't look up from her paper.

"Well there was your uncle Maladict, who said that a pig was his wife and attacked everyone when he found out Grandfather Malfoy had it killed salted it and cured for bacon."

"You know there maybe something in this whole pureblood mess that someone should take a closer look at. Were there any other mad relatives locked in the attic?"

"Well, I had a great-aunt Icarina who declared a sofa cushion the new king of England." Draco shook his head and continued eating his breakfast.

Back in his room Draco thought about his fathers imprisonment, after supporting Voldemort. While he did love his father that didn't mean the had to like him or support any of his ideas. As he looked at what his Dad had done to help Voldemort grow in power he didn't understand why a man who was supposedly so intelligent was acting so stupidly. When in history has a political group that tried to take power through violence in the past hundred years, not been taken back down within a few years. Walking over to storage closet set into his dressing room, he started to pull out his school truck and the other items he hadn't looked at since coming home from the holidays. You know when he thought about it, after the one time he had been forced to go to a meeting with his Dad, the torture and stupid violence that Voldemort meted out to his servants for the littlest thing completely squashed any thought he may have had in humouring his father. A leader that tortures his top supporters is stupid no questions asked. These are the people that brought you to power that hold up your power base, you don't cause them inexcusable pain every time the houselves make your coffee the wrong way. Men like his father and the other pure blood supporters are powerful in their own right. If he wanted to get rid of them just kill them out right. These thoughts floated through his mind as he went through his wardrobe, tossing clothes everywhere in his search for his favourite robes. While he did agree that Mudblood's needed to be better educated about the wizarding world before they are thrust into it at the tender age of eleven. He didn't think that they should die any more, his father 's doctrine, had been driven from his mind after years of walking the dreams of muggle born at Hogwarts. They were underneath all the differences just like him. Pilling up the robes he was taking onto his bed Draco turned to face another wardrobe and started sorting thought the shoes.

He hadn't truly thought about his perceptions of others until he started unwittingly walking through their dreams. It had started one summer when he was twelve, his dreams had begun to get more vivid and real. The colours were brighter and what was happening in them seemed more important than the world around him. It wasn't until he had wandered into his mother's dreams that he had discovered what he was, a Nyx. He was able to take part in and change other people's dream's and what he did could affect the outside world. After having his ear chewed off by Narcissa Draco had made sure to take care of what he did in dreams, after her describing how being stuck inside someone's unconscious until the next time they slept could create very big problems. Something to do with the conscious minds melding and the pain of a thousand paper cuts. What ever would have happened if he had not been caught by his mum would not have been good. A persons dreams told the secrets of their unconscious and after spending a year unwittingly walking through the dreams of his Slytherine roommates Crabbe and Goyle he now tended to keep strong walls around his mind at night to stop his conscious wandering. No one wants to know certain things about the people that you share a room with. A fleeting image of a sheep slipped through his mind before he forced himself to start humming and shove the picture away. "I'm a believer . . . . "

Everything was nearly ready for a new year at Hogwarts, going back to a school he considered the last place that a sane person should ever enter didn't really please Draco. It wasn't that Hogwarts was a bad school it was just that after the shit that had happened to his family over the past few months he didn't know if he could stand the crap that would be showered upon him from the more righteous than god Gryffindors. The day before his last train trip to Hogwarts and he had put off his visit to Diagon alley as long as possible.

In the flo room of Malfoy manor several doors in an octagonal shaped room opened into several smaller rooms all containing separate fireplaces all connected to the network. Draco could remember some of his parents parties filling all the fire places and always busy, when he was smaller before Voldemort arose from the grave like a bad Chinese meal. With a quick use of the flo network Draco and his mother were at Diagon alley. People on the street watched carefully the mother and son as they emerged from a public fireplace, while Lucius imprisonment had placed an indelible mark against the Malfoy name money always gave leeway. As had been proven in the past you could kill your own grandmother in front of a hundred witnesses but as long as you had money you could get away with it.

The street was filled with busy shoppers and wandering tourists. Voldemorts rise had slowed since the monumental cock up of the ministry attack. Malfoy thought about the few attacks that had been heard about. No one was hearing any thing in the magical media about attacks on anyone. If something had been happening for the past year it had been carefully hidden from the public. As Draco peered around the street which made him think of an ant's nest, it didn't look like to him that any one really cared about Voldemorts rise, maybe it was just his close family connection to the great Twats power struggle but with his fathers presence he could always imagine the dark lord hiding behind bushes and under his bed since he was an infant. That these people went about their business so completely unaware of the what was happening in he world around him offended him in some way he could didn't describe. As he followed Narcissa around the street feeling as uncomfortable as a seventeen year old can feel when they go shopping with their mother, the utter ignorance that people showed to anything happening with the world rubbed him the wrong way. When Narcissa became sidetracked at the Alchemists who had a new supply of perfume essences, concentrated oil's produced in muggle fashioned but used by many to make their own potion type cosmetics and perfume. Draco got a chance to sneak away.

Flourish and Blotts called Draco as he wandered down the street keeping an eye out for any of his parents friends and their kids, it's not paranoia if they really are after you. He had their new catalogue arrive in the post the other day and they had some new books on dream interpretation out. While he didn't think what he saw in other people's dreams showed the future. When he saw Pansy Parkinson dreaming about being chased by giant purple hiking boots he kind of wanted to know what the hell that was about. And he had had a strange dream last night, even with allthe training with his mother all he could remember was feathers, dark, blue feathers, he really wanted to know what it meant. The stores towering shelves were filled with books, it was a civil suite waiting to happen. Picking up the new books, _"What happens if you land? Death in the dreamscape _and_ "Lions Tigers and Bears, what animals represent in your dreams."_ After quickly picking up copies of these Draco wandered around the store reading flyleafs, and back covers, thankfully he had picked up his text books earlier.

Passing down tight shelves Draco kept his head down as he searched the shelves. A reader was squatting down staring intently at a book in his hands was completely missed by Draco. As he stumbled into the shopper he fell forwards over their back and rolled into a crouch facing the now stunned Harry Potter. Draco stared into the moss green eyes of the self righteous git he always thought of as Harry Potter. "Watch where your bloody going you moron." Draco pulled himself to his feet and picked up his books he slowly rubbed the dust off his robes. Harry stared up at Draco and scowled

"Oh give it a rest you wanker. Why don't you go back to kissing you fathers arse and leave me alone." Swiping a hand back through his hair Draco looked down at the-boy -that-couldn't-get over-himself.

"Coming from the boy who would fuck a sheep if Dumbledore told him too you really shouldn't say anything." Scrambling to his feet Harry leaned towards Draco.

"So what did you do over the holidays, kick puppies and drown kittens in a sack. Grow up you weed." Stepping backwards, Draco remembered some of the dreams of his father's that he had caught before he had reinforced his mental shields. Killing kittens and puppies were the least of what the sick fucks called Death Eaters got up too. To Harry a slash of discomfort passed over Draco's face and then was gone.

"Potter I don't know why you keep coming back to school it's not like anyone wants you there. In fact I think more people would be happy if you disappeared off the face of the earth then if you lived. Everyone loves a martyr." Harry grabbed the book he had been looking at off the shelf.

"As fun as it has been trading witticisms with you I think you should fuck off and die now." Turning in opposite directions the two red faced boys stormed off.

Draco walked down the Alley with the shrunken books in his pocket. He acknowledged that he had been an idiot to Potter and his friends but their blind devotion and belief in the righteousness of their own views was enough to make him spew. They always thought they were right, that their point of view was the only one. Draco saw his mother walking out of the Alchemist and walked towards her. This year was going to be fucking fabulous he just knew it.

Authors note

I love making up new species. Draco is a magical creature who we will find out more about later. I am sorry about the delay in the chapter, I don't know how but I have four stories going and I am slowly updating them all semi regularly.

Sandalwood while smelling nice also reduces Insomnia, stress, sleeplessness, irritability and several other benefits. Well according to an Aromatherapy book of my mothers.

Thankyou very very very much for reviewing this story, and all the people who were previously reading the other story thread thanks for still reading. Thre is a chaoter of that story up now. Thanks Anglekitty77, Volleypickle16, Yana5, and dmweasley.

Ifany one has an idea or a helpful comment please tell me.

About my spelling, it does go through spell check before it goes up, I am just really bad at spotting grammatical errors in my own stories. Other people's fine but not my own. I would love someone to become my beta so if you have some spare time it would be hugely appreciated.

PLEASE REVIEW AND FEED THE PLOT BUNNY.


	5. Evil SubContracts

The Kindly Ones

Chapter Five

**Evil Sub-Contracts.**

Disclaimer All that is recognised belongs to someone else.

This chapter has been beta'd by Licelli who has graciously fixed my grammar. Thankyou very much, please have another cup of tea.

"It could be a torture chamber or a dungeon or a hideous pit or anything"  
- "It's just a student's bedroom, sergeant"  
- "You see?"

(Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms)

A fat rat crawled along the edge of an upstairs banister its long tail dragging along behind it. Three stories below, a man, hunched over scurried across the black and white marble. if the little creature had been able to notice, it would have seen in the man, a striking resemblance to itself but rats don't think like that and it was more interested in its next meal. Climbing down from the banister the rat landed on a thick carpet and crawled slowly down the circular stairs beneath the notice of the portraits moving over its head. Reaching the marble floorthe rodentslittle claws made a clicking sound as it walked across the foyer, towards an open door. It was a double door made of heavy mahogany coloured wood, and a small crack of light shone out from it into the darkness of the foyer.

The rat could smell food coming from the room, fresh food. Creeping slowly in, it crawled across the heavy floorboards and the thick rug that covered the floor. As it reached the dense ruga sticky sweet smell of fresh blood overwhelmed its mind, making it totally miss the two human's standing talking, towering above its head. Crawling forward the rodent stuck its long nose into the still warm blood and began lapping it up, its mind closed to the world. In its haste missing the large snake that had been wrapped around one of the humans neck slide down their back and move sinuously towards its own next meal. With a snap and a twist the rat was dead and being slowly consumed.

**s_/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s_**

"Do you think you could get her to take that outside, please My Lord?" With a nervous gasp, Wormtail watched the rat spasm as the sake twisted its coils around the rodent's back Voldemort, who had been writing down information prised from the now cooling corpse at his feet, looked up as his minion.  
"Why Wormtail, I hope Nagi's eating habits don't disturb you." With a snide smile Voldemort put the papers down on a roll-top desk by the fire and turned to face Wormtail who was watching Nagi like, well like a small furry mammal watches a snake.  
Wormtail laughed nervously, "Oh No Sir, I'm perfectly fine," he swallowed and his Adam's apple bounced.  
"I'm so glad to hear that. I wouldn't want to upset you delicate stomach. If you think you and your weak constitution could move Mr Snitchel down stairs to the potion's lab, Snape can gather ingredients later. On the other hand, if you think your precious health can't take that…' The sly smile dropped from Voldemort's face and he sneered. " You can joinour gueston the slab."

Wormtail squeaked and whipping out his wand muttered "Wingardium Leviosa" and the very dead body lifted in the air and followed him as he fled the room. Voldemort, watching, again wondered if spending all those years as a rat hadn't permanently affected his faithful servant. Loyalty was all well and good but it paid to have competent servants as well. You just couldn't get good evil minions these days.

_**s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s**_

Settling back into a large wingback chair that faced the fire, he contemplated the information pried from the now very deceased Mr Snitchel. The flames of the fire shone red and orange over the Dark Lord's features as he attempted to work the new information into his game plans. Nagi had swallowed the rat and crawled slowly up the chairs leg, wrapping herself around Voldemort's legs. Without looking up Voldemort spoke:  
"How long have you been here William?"

A shadow thickened and changed where once there had been nothing, a man emerged. Dressed in a deep red velvet robe, his hair brushed the high buttoned collar. Walking towards Voldemort he stubbed out a cigarette he had been smoking in a pot plant that was sitting on a tablehe avoidedthe flora's sharp teeth. "Oh, not for long; just long enough to know what I'm going to get you for Christmas: some books on anger management. The way you smacked that guy around . Do you have an Oedipus complex?"

Voldemort sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had never worked out how the man made his way past the wards and spells protecting the house and Voldemort himself. "Could you be quiet for a moment? I believe I have a job for you"  
The figure stepped in front of the fire. The man looked twenty, no thirty, or maybe forty. Anyway he definitely had brown hair, or was it dark blonde? Or it could be black when you looked at it. He was all of these things which made him very, very good in his job. Leaning against the fireplace his height was hard to guess and his build under his robe was indistinct. Each time Voldemort saw the spy, he was amazed at this skill to be indescribable, and he never seemed to age. Though they had been doing business together sincethe 'Dark Lords'first claim for power.  
"You know you should get some Jif, or Wondersoap on that blood. It'll never come out if you just leave it"  
Voldemort coughed and sighed, he hated dealing with William Lovettes. Each time he hired the man; and it was only rarely that he felt that it was necessary. Lovettes was admittedly brilliant at what he did but oh so annoying, he would be glad when this meeting was over. He could feel the control of his temper wear thin. The man could infiltrate and betray anyone, and Voldemort was glad that the Order of the Phoenix were so, mentally he sneered, 'good' they would never know about the man. He was glad William had never decided to fight for Dumbledore. The strange magic's Lovettes commanded were still not know to him.

William walked aroundVoldemort's living room. "You know, this place is much too dark and depressing, you need some bright summer colours. You should get some one in here to change it." Voldemort clenched his teeth and thought about when he had absolute power and could have Lovettes skinned and pinned outside a harpies cave "You know I've always wondered, why the 'Dark Lord?' Black's not a very scary colour! Whereas Fuchsia is a very scary colour; I know, I would run if I saw a Fuchsia Lord"  
Sighing Voldemort watched as the man pulled out books from his bookshelves and said annoyingly "You know you should pick up a hobby, or maybe some different reading material." He picked up a text lying on a table and flipped it open; a strange eldritch glow emerged, bathing his face in a green light. The cover began to pulse a sickly red. "You know this may work good as night light, but if you want good bed time reading material try Dean Koontz, or Nora Roberts." As a dark tentacle emerged from the book William slammed it shut causing it to make a strange pained squeaking noise and chuckedthe textdown on the table.

As he watched Lovettes begin poking a pixy he kept in a cage on his desk Voldemort coughed. "If you are quite finished, I believe that there is an 'Erinyes' in England. I would like you to find it and bring it to me." William laughed and sat down in an ezy-boy chair, which had appeared from nowhere. Stretching out the spy rested his hands on his stomach and watched Voldemort.  
"Voldie if that was all you wanted done, you could have gotten Splinter there to pick it up." The unspoken question 'why him' hung in the air.  
"From information that I have gathered I believe that the Erinyes will soon reside in Hogwarts." Interrupting Voldemort, William laughed, "and you still don't have the balls to face Dumbledore; a guy who has the fashion sense of a colour blind bower bird"  
Ignoring the other man, Voldemort kept talking. "meanwhile, I am just biding my time to crush Dumbledore and his mindless followers under my heel. I don't feel that would be prudent to do so now. Your abilities are needed to infiltrate the school and acquire the creature."

"Was that what that poor slob knew? You know if you keep breaking your toys you're not going to get any new ones soon." From somewhere William had pulled a tall beer glass and was happily drinking. "There's a funny thing I heard about Erinyes." looking into the air Lovettes hummed. "I think I heard that Erinyes are an important ingredient in a certain spell. Of course I wasn't really listening, you know how hard it is to hear over a blowtorch."

Voldemort hadn't moved but when William stopped talking he seemed to be more tense than before.  
"I don't know what your talking about. I have heard the legends that they are the most adept pain dealers and it is bred specifically into their blood. With an Erinyes behind me I feel it would greatly increase my power base."  
Leaning back William laughed. "Voldie wants his own little torturer. How sweet. I bet you have a thing for whips to"  
Finishing his beer, William chucked the glass into the air and it disappeared with a Pop. "What's in it for me? I'm not one of your brain-less wonders who will follow you with nary a thought in their heads"  
Getting up from his chair, Voldemort eased Nagi away from around his waist and walked towards the papers piled up on the shelf.

"I just happened to come across some information about a certain matter that I believe you're interested in"  
William now stood up and the ezy-boy chair disappeared behind him, "Now _**that**_ is something I like to hear. My fee will be doubled, and will be in my vault when the job is done. As they say, Dark Lord's come and go but money is forever."

Voldemort kept his temper carefully under control and picked up the papers. "I thought the information would be payment"  
Smiling Williambrushed a hand downthe long velvet red robe he was wearing and straightened his cuffs with a flourish. "Oh, Voldie. We are talking about entering Hogwarts, a place the so self-named heir of Slytherine stays away from like the plague. There obviously will be added expenses. And when have I ever done anything for free? I'll come back for the information when the job's done." Sitting back down, the Dark Lord carefully shifted his snake. "One day, Lovettes you are going to push me too far." It was almost a promise.

Grinning William leaned over quickly and pecked Voldemort on the nose. His hair brushing Voldemort's face. "You're just saying that, you love me really." Skipping backwards the man laughed and walked out of the doors, calling over his shoulder. "Remember not to send anyone after me; you know what happened last time, and you know how hard it is to find good mindless goons"  
As he stepped through the door the shadows seemed to swallow him whole.

**_s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s/s_**

Scratching her head, Voldemort watched the sleeping Nagi. Creeping back into the room, Wormtail shuffled over to Voldemort who was staring down at his snake.  
"My Lord, is there anything else you want me to do tonight?" Voldemort was tempted to tell him to follow William but as incompetent as he was, Wormtail would pour boiling oil over his own head if he told him and that kind of dogged loyalty was important. As Wormtail walked backwards out of the room, once Voldemort dismissed him. The rag underneath Valdemort's chair had began to stiffen with all the blood that has soaked into it; in displeasure the Dark Lord flicked his hand and sent it away, replacing it with another. Lovettes had not been so good at his job, Voldemort would have killed him years ago. The annoying little bastard showed absolutely no fear of him and his presence made Voldemort's skin crawl. He wanted to hurt something, that man made his wand hand itch to cast Avada Kadavera, and rid the world of his presence. Frustration mounting Voldemort cursed aloud, waking Nagi, he needed to hurt someone. Shouting loudly Voldemort voiced his command. "Wormtail get down here now."

Authors Note

Thanks Licelli for the ending.

Thankyou so much for reading.

Oedipus complex:

Named after a Greek myth about a boy who is prophesised as killing his father the king of Thebes. Oedipus is then sent to die on a mountain. Shepard's rescue him, and he become's a hero defeats the sphinx and goes on to when he meets his father on the road and doesn't move for the kings chariot kill him fulfilling the prophecy. When he killed the sphinx in Thebes the people want to reward him so he becomes king not knowing that he killed his father and as such when he marries the queen he marries his own mother. And so an Oedipus Complex is where a man wants to have sex with their own mother and kill their father. There is more too it than that, but that's what I understand. I think. William's reference is completely random and just my way of putting in some Greek myth. Voldemort has problems which may include an Oedipus complex. He did kill his father.

Thankyou for reviewing,

Yana5- yes they are mates. All that is happening is that I don't want lust at first sight. Where they just fall into each others arms. I don't mind stories that do that, they can be good to read. Only I want some conflict for the two and a chance to write up a proper date for Harry with someone as his Erinyes hormones set in.

Anglekitty77 - The plot bunny is a little skinny but I had an idea for the next chapter any way and he is bouncing along. Though next chapter is yet to be decided while I write up a chapter for my other Harry Potter story.

I am working on a new chapter of 'Harry Hunting' right now so it should be up sometime.

PLEASE REVIEW AND SAVE THE PLOT BUNNY.


	6. Our Hero Arrives at Hogwarts

_The Kindly Ones ,_

Chapter Six

**Where Out Hero arrives at Hogwarts.**

This chapter has beed beta'd by Licelli who deserves a pot of tea and a sit down. Thankyou.

It wasn't a dark and stormy night. It should have been, but there's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is complete and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime.

-- (Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman, Good Omens)

/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/

There had been a feeling of tension since everyone boarded the train at the start of the day. The new arrivals, and the students returning from their holidays, were noisily saying goodbye to their respective families before boarding the train. The air was still loud and boisterous as they settled in but there was a sense of foreboding clinging to it.  
Making sure he would get there early, to avoid anything going wrong at the last minute, Harry had managed to get to the train safely. Hermione and Ron were both Prefects this year, and he wished them the best, but it meant they spent most of the train trip annoying the lower years, and preventing fights amongst the houses. He had managed to find a space to himself at the front of the train and a quick snarl at anyone who tried to enter stopped anyone joining him. All he needed was a happy optimist bounding in here talking about what fun the school year was going to be. In fact he felt like saying 'Bah Humbug' to the next cheery first year foolhardy enough to show him his face.

As Harry boarded the carriages led by Thestrals, that would take them up to Hogwarts, he saw Ron and Hermione getting into the carriages of some second year Gryffindor boys, who had set off a firework in the train, and whom they obviously didn't trust to be left alone together, before they reached the castle. It was clear that they would have no chance to talk until later.  
He didn't know if he should tell them about his changes, or if he should keep quite. As he settled back in his seat, after staring blindly at the other occupants, he thought about what their reactions would be. Immediately a mental image of Hermione, sticking him down with a giant pin like a bug specimen under glass as she dissected him, came to mind. He laughed to himself. Well their reactions couldn't be any worse then that. As he watched the school get closer and the lights grow, he shook his head. What chance would there be of him hiding all this from his friends? It wouldn't work. It didn't take a Hermione to see that every time he tried to keep the really important information away from them, something would go wrong. He had been thinking about it on the train and when you consider big things, discovering you're another species of magical bounty hunters is pretty big. He just had to tell them; that would be easy, right?

/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O

As Harry walked into the hall and the sight and sound of hundreds of students hit him, a clicking thumping noise filtered into his hearing. It was so quite that he could barely hear it but it trickled through his ears and down his spine. The sound had been hidden in his subconscious since he walked down the stairs at the Leaky Cauldron but now in front of so much magic he could hear it. Walking into the hall he was pushed by the other students trying to get around his slower self. As he got closer to people the noise grew deeper, not louder. Walking towards his friends that he could see sitting at the head of the Gryffindor table, bunched together, he passed by the other tables and as he walked slowly a scent touched the back of his throat. It smelled rotten and ripe and as he thought about it, the smell reminded him of rotten raw chicken. A smell he was familiar with after the Dursley's. It wasn't strong but the smell was catching at the back of his throat and made his nose turn up. This had never happened before when he entered the dining hall. He would have to add it to his list of weird things that were happening to him.  
Gently biting his bottom lip Harry tried to ignore the smell. He was going to have to go into the library and look up Erinyes; and go through the rest of those papers his grandmother had left him. He was going to have do research 'Oww' 'mental wail'.

'Other teens go through puberty with only virulent acne and raging hormones and inconvenient sexual arousal to worry about, he had to be special and become a… whatever the hell he was. The world was seriously fucked up.

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Inside the hall, Harry finally got to meet up and talk with his friends. "Hi Harry" Harry grinned and smiled.

"Hi Ron, Hi Hermione I hope you didn't scare the littlies too much. We don't want them too afraid, at the start of the year"  
Hermione grinned as she sat down.

"Why would that be, putting the fear of Prefects into the first years is kind of fun."

"Ha, Ha I knew it, you like being in power, you probably get off on it." Ron pointed a finger at Hermione, who was sitting opposite him and laughed. "I can just see you now with a riding crop striding around the front of a class room." Hermione grabbed his finger and twisted it up.

"Okay, guys give it up. What have you both been up to during the holidays"  
Just as Ron was about to speak, rubbing his finger and poking his tongue out at Hermione, someone at the high table spoke.  
"Students, Staff, and other assorted members of the audience, I welcome you back to Hogwarts or, if this is your first year: Beware of the Penguins. " After the first few sentences most of the student body ignored their Headmaster and got back to the important task of eating and talking with their friends.  
"So what were you up to during the hols"  
Harry thought about how he could answer this, 'Oh I don't know, it turns out my grandmother was a cross between a hag and medusa and I'm one too but don't worry I won't hurt anyone!' Maybe sarcasm wasn't the way to explain his holidays.  
"Oh you know, nothing." No one looked surprised at his answer.

"Herm what did you get up to?" Hermione had been talking with Neville who had brought a small book out of his pocket and was showing it to her.  
"Well, I went to my grandparents for a few weeks. It was great; they live down south. Their local library let me get a library card and take books out without having to pay a deposit, like so many libraries are doing today. You know, books should be available to everyone. It isn't right when a public library starts charging"  
Hermione's rant was stopped when Harry placed his hand over her mouth.

"We got it! Paying for books: bad. New topic please.  
"The twins were taking their experiments to the limit when we went home." Ginny leaned over the table and picked up the book Neville had shown Hermione.  
"Mum blew her top when Dad's birthday came round and his cake blew up and six near naked women poured out and started singing 'Happy Birthday.'"  
Ron was grinning as he remembered the illusionary girls who had dance a conga around the living room after bursting from the cake

"I don't know Ginny, I think Dad got a thrill out of it; if one went by the look on his face! I wish I had a camera."

"Yeah well Mum wasn't that happy. She chased the twins around the house for hours! Then remembered the illusion and dispelled it." Looking up at the high table Ron sighed; Dumbledore was still droning on.

"And that is why the twins are moving out in a couple of weeks. The birthday cake was the straw that broke the camel's back, I think. The rest of the holidays were filled with their experiment's and since we were stuck hidden away we couldn't leave."

"So you were hiding during the holidays?" Hermione was quietly; still fuming over the injustice of a world in which she had to pay to take books out from a library. There was a series of 'Yes and Yips' from the group of friends.  
The rest of their conversation was just the usual talk that people have when they meet up after a break. 'Hi how are you? You're not dead! You haven't been abducted by aliens, that's good! Let's talk about me.'

O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O/O

At the head table someone coughed; when the student body kept talking and ignoring the teachers, someone coughed again. Again this was ignored; someone grumbled and a shower of green sparks shot out over the students who went, all suddenly, very quiet. A pleased looking Professor Snape gave the Headmaster a sarcastic bow and sat down.  
"Now that I have your attention. I have several points I wish to mention and that you must know. Hagrid has been having problems during the summer months with denizens of the Forbidden forest wandering onto Hogwarts. No one is to go within a hundred meters of the forest. It does not matter if you think you hear someone calling for help or offering you sweets. You are to call for a member of staff if you hear, or see, anything stranger than usual.  
This year, Hogmead's weekends are be closely supervised by the teaching staff; more will be explained by your head of house; so if you were planning on sneaking anywhere, I am sorry.  
Finally, we have a new assistant caretaker this year. He will be helping Mr Filch in his tasks. Our caretaker has been feeling unwell lately. Please treat Mr Scuta as you would Mr Filch. He has the same powers to grant detentions and take house points as Mr Filch. You will probably see him around the grounds sooner or later. Now I believe it is time to start heading back up to your rooms. So, Good Evening. I hope you all have a splendid year."

Slowly walking out of the hall, Harry managed to corner Ron and Hermione by themselves. "Guys, do you think you could meet me in the room of Requirements, tomorrow night?" Both nodded quickly and watched Harry speed up and almost run out of the hall. They all missed the look of one Slytherin who had seen the three golden 'Gryffindorks' leaving. 'Self-righteous, ego-centric, fuckin' hypocrites.' Draco mumbled under his breath a he watched them leave.

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Sitting in the Caretakers office Mr Filch watched his new assistant over his desk. Filch was wrapped in layers of fluffy blankets and woolly jumpers. A big box of tissues sat beside him and he was surrounded by a pile of used ones. A steaming mug of lemon tea sat in front of him right beside a stack of files. "You are very lucky Mr Scuta, that those miserable Weasley twins are long gone from these halls. _Sniff . . ."_ Across from the miserable Filch sat the new caretaker, Mr Scuta. The man was young, his dark blonde hair pulled back in a tight braid. He was looking at a sick Filch with concern. "I hope that you are hale and merry soon Mr Filch. These long and dusty halls are not for the weak of constitution." Filch pulled the mug close to him and took a deep sip of the hot drink. "Madam Pomfrey whom you met yesterday, says I just have a pepper up immune flu it should clear up in a few weeks but until then I need your help. _Sniff..._ If you give these students one moments weakness, they'll exploit it, the little bastards._ Sniff..._ And just call me Noel." Picking up a folder on Filch's desk, the new caretaker smiled. "Thank you Noel I will. It is just terrible when the younger generation takes advantage. Just terrible. You said you were going to show me the problem cases." Filch grinned evilly " Well that which you are holding in your hands includes the many deeds committed by one Harry Potter. _Sniff. . ._A blot on this fair school if ever there was one. _Sniff . . ._ " The dark green robe that Mr Scuta was wearing shivered. "That wouldn't happen to be the-boy-that-lived? Well you hear what it says in the paper, but you don't want to believe it." Filch sneezed and crumpled up another tissue. "Oh Mr Scuta, Harry Potter is one of the most disobedient children I have ever had the displeasure to clean up after. _Sniff..._ You have to watch him and his sly little friends; they're always sneaking around; where they're not meant to" Mr Scuta gasped. "That is horrible. I will have to keep my eye on Harry Potter. And please, call me Alaric; we will be working together." Looking at the long list of misdeeds in the file Scuta smiled. "I must keep an eye on all the students."

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Deep with Hogwarts in a room never seen on the Marauders map. A place no one had entered in millennia, sat a figure wrapped in shadows. It stared into a candle flame that never burnt down. It had been at the same level since the door was shut. No dust or clutter filled the room; the air did not move and if the figure had not been mumbling, nothing would have seemed alive. 'He's here, He's here, He's Here, He's here, He's here. He's Here. He's here, He's here. He's Here'. The figure's thin lips kept repeating the words until the sounds, eventually, made no sense. Suddenly It stood up and did a little dance in the middle of the room making the flame of the candle flutter in the breeze. The Erinyes was in the castle, its prison would be broken and it would be free. It's hard won connection to the outside world was finally going to be used. There was something else in the castle, as well as his Erinyes but it didn't matter. They were going to be free. What fun could be had in bright sparkling world all ready to be broken. A thousand images of smashing the sky like a plate of glass slid through the figure's mind. He was going to be Free.

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Authors Note

A new chapter and so many new questions, but you will have to wait and keep reading.

ATTENTION: For all the old readers I have gone back over my first couple of chapters. In them I have fixed the spelling and grammar. Note that I have done this doesn't mean mistakes are not still there, and I have fixed the plot. So please reread for everything to make sense.  
Thankyou so much for reviewing  
**AngelKitty77** - your protests have been heard and an emergency supply of plot carrots was found.  
**Methoslover** - Thanks  
**Kavfh** -Thankyou  
**ChronoClockXVII** - The idea is heavily influenced by greek myth.

PLEASE REVIEW, SAVE THE PLOT BUNNY, SAVE THE PLOT BUNNY.


	7. Our Hero Dreams

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Seven_

**In Where Our Hero Dreams.**

Disclaimer: Me: Poor, JKR: Rich, do I need to say more?

There are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.  
-- (Terry Pratchett, Small Gods)

OOoOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOo

Pushing through the silvery grey fog that surrounded him, Harry couldn't see his hand in front of his face. The fog seemed to hold an icy grip over his skin. Glancing around he could see nothing and it felt as though he had been walking for hours.  
"Helllloooo? Anyone there? If this is the dream with the dancing cheese I could so do with out that tonight"

Harry Peered around him as the fog moved in strange swirls and a tint of red broke its solidity. The cold seeped into his skin and made his bones ache, and he could hear a noise getting louder and louder. The sound was of metal sliding along metal, it reminded him of when Vernon would sharpen the butcher's knife on the steel before cutting up the Sunday roast. The slick snick, snack of steel against steel echoed strangely in the rapidly changing fog.  
"Of course, if this is the dream with Lavender and Padma covered in whipped cream and calling me lord and master, I'm all for it"

His forced cheerfulness dwindled as the fog seemed to grasp at his skin.  
The snick, snack of steel was not getting louder but the fog was swirling around Harry like he was stuck in a blender. Slumping down Harry sighed.  
"Look unless something happens soon I'm going to wake up"

Looking down at the ground he groaned; dark, warm liquid was seeping around his legs. He jumped up out of it. In the strange light of the dream it looked black. Not knowing if he should, Harry stuck his finger into the liquid. It clung to his hand making a sucking noise as he brought a finger up close to his face to see what it was. A dark red stain covered his hand. 'Ah blood, now bring on Voldemort and this would be just like the usual'.

Fighting off the feelings of dread Harry laughed uneasily and tried to keep a light side. He started to whistle.  
"_Always look on the bright side of life, da dum, da dum, da dum, da dum_." Wiping his finger on his top Harry rubbed his hands together and tried finding the source of the strange noise. Crying out in frustration Harry demanded.  
"Do something, why don't you"

Blood oozed around his ankles and the red tinged mist flowed around him. The only noise besides his breath was that of the slick sliding metal. After what seemed a few minutes, or an hour, a feeling of dark dread seeped through the mist, he could feel something coming; it cut through the ice of the mist. As the fog began to thicken again Harry could feel his pulse speeding up and his breath caught in his throat. Dread lay heavy on his shoulders as the mist turned around him. The presence was somewhere in somewhere in there and he couldn't see it; he only hoped that '_it_' had the same problem.

Staying where he was Harry tried to peer into the thick fog and find what was out there. He hoped to hell it was the bloody, dancing cheese. The mist's red tinge was changing, growing dark and Harry could feel the warmth of the liquid around his ankles rise.  
"I am going to wake up now, I am going to wake up now. Where the fuck are the pair of ruby slippers when you need them?"

The weight of the dread pushed down on his neck and he bowed his head. Whatever was moving through the mist, glided round him, he could sense the fear it projected. Muttering under his breath Harry brought his eyes up while his head remained bowed.  
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home"  
He felt something slide through the liquid around his knees, passing between his legs. Closing his eyes Harry shuddered at the feel of the thing circling his calves.

The dream world began to fade. The waking world intruding on the dream, the voice of one of his roommates became the best noise Harry had ever heard.

"Do you think anyone will notice if I just chuck my robe over my P.J's?" Dean's voice, pushed lightly into Harry's mind. With each word, the world of mist faded and the dread slipped away, until Harry was awake and staring up at the curtains around his bed.

Dim daylight illuminated his bed and the memories of the dream faded with the light, as dreams do. Outside the curtains he could hear his roommates getting ready for breakfast and their first day back.  
"Ha, Ron is that hair on the palms of your hands? Get yourself a girlfriend mate or you'll go blind."

It sounded like someone had got a look at Ron's porn collection. The boy treated it like it was his baby and Harry wondered sometimes why his mattress wasn't a meter off the base from the amount of wizard porn he kept under it.  
The reality of his friend's arguments and jokes blew away the last fragments of his dream.  
Jerking back his bed covers Harry pushed the dream out of his mind until it was a distant memory. Pulling his curtains aside he climbed out of bed, just in time to see Ron scream and crash tackle Dean who had got one of his precious magazines and was flipping through it.  
"No, don't crease the pages!"

Harry laughed and got ready for the day.

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Draco started awake, 'Oh goody, another year of picking up everyone's stray dreams and nasty delusions'. First night back and he had forgotten how hard it was to keep everyone's dreams in their own heads. Being reminded that a certain roommate had a strange fascination with another roommate's feet was not the best way to start the year.

But it was strange, just before he woke up there had been a waver in the dreamscape. When he travelled through people's dreams it spread around him like the back of a complicated tapestry, each thread a persons thoughts, a bump or knot in the thread showing they were sleeping, and dreaming.

Just as he woke up it looked to him as though some one had plucked the weaving. It had shuddered and if he hadn't of been nearly awake he didn't know what could have happened to him. He hadn't seen anything like that happen before, of course, he admitted to himself, he hadn't been watching people's dreams for very long, but what had happened struck him as very wrong. Dragging a hand over his face Draco rubbed his eyes. Hopefully it was something he didn't have to worry about. If not he would mention it in his letter to his Mum.

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Whistling drifted through one of Hogwarts' west wing corridors, someone was piping away a happy tune.  
Not far away Harry Potter was stumbling along trying to find this year's Charms classroom for some reason it had been moved. Of course he would lose his way. He knew the room was in the east wing, and he hoped that was were he was, but Potter's luck said he was as far as possible away from the East wing.

Late for his first class after lunch, he should have left with Seamus and Neville who had Charms class at the same time as him. As he walked further through the corridors Harry watched the paintings and looked for one of a portrait that could lead him out.

Six years at Hogwarts and he could still get lost. He had been able to hear the whistling for a few minutes and hoped he was getting close to the whistler. The corridor led down a short flight of stairs into a small foyer with several big wide doors leading off.

Across from the stairway a pair of heavy honey coloured wood doors were wide open and Harry could smell the sap from freshly cut wood. A light pile of sawdust had drifted out of the doors and Harry could see sunlight from the stairwell he was standing in. The whistling was coming from inside the room. Slowly walking slowly walking forward Harry stuck his head around the corner and peered in, he didn't want to interrupt anyone who could make his day worse.

Inside a man was hard at work with a plane, smoothing off a cut length of wood. Surrounding him were piles of fresh timber and semi-finished furniture. Nothing was Chippendale material. It looked very much like the tables, desks, and chairs that were found throughout the castle.  
The carpenter was whistling along to the music from a little wizard radio. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up and Harry could see the cuts and scars of someone routinely working with wood, and heavy metal blades. Harry coughed politely.  
"Excuse me, could you point me back towards the west wing." The man jumped and put the plane down on the table to which the wood he was working on, was clamped.  
"Oh young sir, you did give me a surprise. Now what can you be doing down in this corner of Hogwarts?"

Harry smiled and shoved his hands behind his back. The man turned towards Harry and he saw his dark blonde hair pulled back in a short ponytail sprinkled with sawdust and wood curls. A gentle smile sat on his face and laugh lines circled his mouth, echoed by the happy creases around his eyes. Putting a hand behind his head Harry sighed.  
"My names Harry. Well, I kind of got lost. Do you think you could point me towards the west wing?" He repeated.

The carpenter walked forward and held out a hand, "Hello there, I'm Alaric Scuta the new care-taker. I am down here working on fixing some of the tables that the first years scorched."

Harry grinned; the guy seemed nice. "Why do you need to fix them by hand instead of with magic"  
Scuta drew a hand over a smooth tabletop waiting to be polished.  
"Magically created objects tend to be temperamental and with as much magic we have flying through the school, we don't want a desk turning back into a pile of gravel half way through a third year's potion experiment. So they are made by hand here and have spells inlaid into them. When Mr Filch heard of my talents with a saw, he had me down here quicker than two shakes of a lambs tail."

"Oh Okay. So you are the new caretaker. How is it working with Fil…Mr Filch?" Scuta laughed at Harry verbal slip.  
"Well you would know him better than me but he has come over as a little bit grumpy." Harry laughed lightly.  
"Ahh yeah, so, the west wing?" Scuta's smile widened.  
"That's easy Harry, just go through the first door on your left, follow the corridor and at the end there is a painting of a lily pond, poke the frog and it will open out into the hallway beside the great hall"  
"That's good, how do you know that"  
Scuta laughed, "Oh Mr Filch has been showing me ways to make sure that the students are caught unaware." Harry laughed with him and waved as he walked out of the room. "Thankyou Mr Scuta." Smiling the caretaker waved in return.  
"My Pleasure, have a good day."

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Mr Scuta smiled; it had been such fun to meet the great Harry Potter. As a nefarious baddy out to do no good at Hogwarts he had made sure the first student he would talk to was the boy-that-lived-to-foil-bad-guys. Nefarious, he liked that word, next time he saw Voldey he was going to have to work it into the conversation. Drawing the word out in his mind William grinned.

Every time 'The Fuchsia' Lord came up with a plan to sneak into Hogwarts, he sneaked around or sent someone that was so obviously a spy that a blind hermit could spot them at fifty yards. Let alone a bunch of kids who had to fight Voldemort at the same time as they went to class and got their assignments in on time. They probably had some name for themselves the 'famous five' or the 'secret seven' or something else out of an Enid Blyton book. Every time he walked around a corner at Hogwarts he expected to see Noddy and Big ears.

Harry Potter was always at the front of any catch-Voldey scheme, it amazed him that either Harry or the Dark lord were still around. Oh well he did like money and some habits were expensive. So part one of his plan: Bumbling – Caretaker, was underway. Sooner than he knew it, Voldemort would have the Erinyes, and he would have the money, a beach house in Hawaii, and someone to annoy. Smiling he picked up the wood plane, this was going to be fun.

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Authors Note

And so Harry enters the land of Denial from this chapter where nothing bad can happen to you. The Longer he avoids what has happened the worse everything is going to be when the sky falls around his ears.

**Note to Reviewers**: the person who is the 50 reviewer will have a chapter dedicated to them and get a special small Omake that I wrote because I read to much Harry/Draco veela slash. Do not worry everyone else who reviews gets a 'Fuchsia Lord' badge.  
Oh, and anyone that can guess what is was Harry was hearing last chapter as he entered the great hall, gets a cool stick on tattoo of Harry's wings.

So PLEASE REVIEW

Thanks for reviewing

Angelkitty77: Here Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny. Here Bunny.  
addisonjade: I Love making up strange creatures and then I realise that I have to make them do things. I hope this chapter is easier to read.  
Wolfawaken: I'm glad, thanks.

The Bushes Rustle as a Plot Bunny emerges, Please Save this Endangered Species. REVIEW PLEASE


	8. Our Hero Shares his Secret

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Eight_

**Our Hero Shares his Secret.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his associated parts, belongs to JKR.

This chapter is dedicated to Methoslover

This lovely person is my fiftieth reviewer. Thank you very much. I hope you got the email with the very short story attached. And thank you to everyone that reviewed please keep it up.

This chapter beta'd by Licelli, who should sit down after hacking through my terrible grammar and spelling.

"Sodomy non sapiens," said Albert under his breath.  
- "What does that mean"  
- "Means I'm buggered if I know."

(Terry Pratchett, Mort)

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"Now if I could be anywhere I wanted to be in the world, it bloody well wouldn't be here!" Harry was leaning backwards in his chair flicking little bits of parchment up in the air. In a few minutes his friends would be walking through the door to hear his secret. He knew he was going to sound whiny but he just had to say it once more "Why is it always me?" That felt good, a little bit of angst now and again was good for you.  
From the other side of his door he could hear the strident tones of Ron and Hermione fighting.

"No, magic was not used in the making of the movies."

"There is no way muggles could do those things with comp - tutors." It appeared that they had been to the cinema during the holidays.

"Ron not everything good in the world was made with magic"  
"I still say that those Lord of the Rings films were made using magic. Peter Jackson has to be a wizard."

Harry heard Hermione's resigned sigh, "Fine Ron what ever you want, just shut up."

When the two walked through the door they saw Harry, who had gone from throwing paper in the air and progressed to wastepaper basketball, the occupation of the terminally procrastinating. "So Harry what ya doing?"

"Contemplating global domination, but not much else."

"That's nice, can I have Australia? I always wanted to be on Neighbours!" Hermione went along with Harry's diversion.

"Sure, Ron can have Russia and Hedwig can have Canada, but I'm keeping Hawaii and Fiji. I always wanted an island retreat."

"Hey, how come I get Russia?" Ron complained as he sprawled out on the room's couch.

"Well if you don't want Russia, pick a continent!"

"India, I always wanted a pet elephant."

As the three split up the planet after Harry's planned domination, it was decided that he would go for the nuclear weapon strapped to a giant drill set to go off in the centre of the earth; an oldie but a good one, and all his evil minions would have to wear silver lame' suits and plastic orange hard hats.  
"So why have you really asked us here?"

"Yeah, Harry, it's nice to know that if your ever conquer the world I'd get to become king of India, but what's up?"

Harry slumped further down in his chair and sighed, playing with the ripped parchment in his lap. "Guys, you know I don't mean to knock you but, as soon as more than one person knows a secret it's no longer a secret. And keeping a secret at Hogwarts is like holding water in a sieve. "

Both teens nodded in understanding. "It's not that I don't want to talk to you guys, it's just…" Harry stood up and began pacing. "I don't want the whole school to know."

Ron and Hermione watched Harry lose the ability of inner monologue. After a few minutes of his ranting he drew to a halt.  
"Ahh well fuck it. If I don't tell you guys I will probably regret it even more"  
"Okay, the night before I went to Diagon alley to pick up my stuff for the year, something happened. When Vernon decided to lay into his favourite punching bag, there was this light and then I found myself with this". Harry jerked his jumper over his head showing the deep midnight blue feathers picked out in silver trailing down his back and past the waist of his pants.

Before his friends could start talking, Harry continued. "When I went to Gringotts to take out some cash, there was this box sitting right in the middle of my vault." With that he pulled out a little wooden box that had been sitting beside his chair and handed it to Hermione.

"Inside was a letter from my Great, to the power of whatever, grandmother, telling me I am an Erinyes. She went on to say that they are like magical bounty hunters and in her letter she told me that I was going to have all these weird physical changes."

Harry held out a hand and began to list the changes his body had been going through counting them off on his fingers. "First was the back tattoo. Second my hair has turned into something from medusa, and has an literal mind of it's own. Third I have fangs which are poisonous, how annoying is that going to be when I want to kiss anyone. That's all I can think of right now. Knowing me I'll probably end up with two heads and a tail."

Hermione had opened the box and was pulling out the papers and the whip, necklace, silk rope, glass bottle that had been sitting inside.  
"Harry, have you looked at any of these items?"

"Ahh no, not really. I've been avoiding even thinking about the whole mess."

"This is all pretty strange. I don't know what to say really."

"Harry, can you fly"  
"Ron there are more important things than whether he can fly or not."

Harry pulled his jumper back on. "Ron, for all intents and purposes, they are as useful as if they really were a tattoo. And let me tell you, watching my hair try to eat my comb is just plain weird. Thankfully the teeth are retractable. I don't want to think about how hard it would be to eat an apple with fangs."

"Fangs? Cool, can I see?" Ron stood up excited.

Harry shrugged and opened his mouth, the thin retractable fangs extending his eyeteeth by a centimetre.

"Bloody amazing! Hey Hermione check this out"  
"Ha, ha, laugh it up, I've bitten my stupid tongue I don't know how many times before I worked out how to retract them."

"We can just call it Harry's new party trick!"

"Give it a rest Ron. There have been a couple of other things that have been happening. That is, whenever I'm around a whole lot of wizards and witches I hear this noise; I can't really describe it. I've never heard it before. But what's nasty is that I can smell this horrid stench throughout the castle. It fades and grows. Is it me or has the plumbing backed up again." Looking up from studying the necklace from the box Hermione spoke.

"No, Peeves was banished to the highest tower after he tried to play a prank on the Bloody Baron and was caught. Look I'm going to ask a silly question, because I know the answer, do you want me to go to the Library and search for any information on Erinyes?"

Harry hung his head in mock resignation.  
"Yes, I know if I tried I would spend twice the time with half the result. Plus I promise you the biggest box of chocolates from Honeydukes' that I can buy."

"Certainly, what are friends for, but I expect no nougat in my chocolates."

Ron picked up the little glass bottle that had been sitting beside Hermione. It was oval shaped and seemed to be empty. It had been rolling about on the couch, as it did not have a flat bottom.  
"Hey Harry why did you get an empty bottle. I got more useful stuff when my great uncle Jonas died. And he had a strange fetish for muggle underwear. Your relatives suck." With this statement he placed a fingernail under the lid of the small metal lid and flicked it off. The supposedly empty bottle began to emit a strange red mist.

"Ron, what the fuck did you just do?" Harry screamed as the mist slowly oozed out of the small bottle, hissing when it meet the material of the couch.

"He just opened a strange bottle, taken from a mysterious old box that no one has ever seen before. Ron you are a complete idiot!" Hermione yelled at the stunned red head, who had immediately dropped the bottle and leaped away from the couch on which it had landed. All three began backing away from the spreading mist.

"Oh shit. Hermione fix it!" Hermione scowled at the other Gryffindor and aimed her wand at the slowly growing mass of mist, which was drifting off the couch and towards the fire. 'deleo, discedo, perficio,' the bright yellow light which sprang from her wand was swallowed by the mist.  
"Mione did you take a look at any of those papers, did they say anything about this"  
Hermione scowled when her spell didn't work and shook her head.

"No but there is probably a big warning sign in there"  
The mist was slowly growing but there was still a gap to the door.

"Who's up for running for it and leaving it for Dumbledore to clean up?"

"Ron, who knows what that mist does. For all we know it could eat through the stone and leave half the kitchen as mulch before we even got to the Headmaster."

"We can't let that happen. Harry do something!"

Dashing across the room Harry grabbed the box before the mist reached it; luckily the papers were still inside.  
"Hermione, do you think you can contain it at least?"

"I'll try, . .'uentus' a stiff breeze flew from her wand surrounding the mist and pushing it away from the three Gryffindors. But it continued to grow.

"Do you think you could get the lid on it that way?" Ron asked as Harry quickly scanned the papers, taking nothing in but looking for anything to do with the bottle and red mist.

"No, the mist is hiding the bottle and I need to see it, to perform the necessary spell."

Harry chucked the box and the rest of the papers to the ground as he shouted "Eureka. This mentions a bottle of Eumenides; it contains the blood essence of Uranus, spilt at his castration. Eww!"

"Harry hurry up " Hermione spoke as the red mist poured out of the top of the mini tornado she had produced.

"Okay, something about Tartarus . . . Corcyra, . . . . Uranus, father of the Titans, yada, yada, yada, here we are - the bottle can be used for the capture and torture of those with divine or semi divine blood, must never fall into the hands of a titan. All living, or once living, material that comes in contact will dissolve. Only an Erinyes can handle it without being destroyed"  
At this, they finally noticed that half the couch was missing, eaten away by the mist.  
"There's a little note on the side, 'great for cleaning up after a big party." Harry hung in his head "I hate my ancestors."

Dropping the paper he walked over to the mini tornado,  
"Could you stop that so I can get to the bottle, Mione"  
After a quick 'finite' the mist began spilling out of the wind prison. As Harry walked to it, Ron spoke.

"Hey Harry, if you don't come back, can I have your Firebolt."

"Ron shut up," and with that he stuck an arm into the mist; it didn't fall off so he walked in.

Once inside the mist it felt as if he was at the centre of a bubble. Everything on the outside was distorted but inside there did not seem to be anything wrong. His mouth tingled and his fangs pushed out his eye teeth. There was a heavy and thick smell of old blood inside the bubble.

Harry waved a hand at Ron and Hermione,  
"Hey guys I'm okay." They didn't react. "Ron you smell like old fish and your mother dresses you funny." Still no response. Before he got carried away he remembered the mist was spreading, and his friends wouldn't be able to just walk into it. He didn't want to end up with two puddles of slime as his sidekicks.

Walking over to the couch, which had been eaten away by the mist Harry saw the bottle. Beside it lay the little lead lid. Quickly he thrust the lid into the bottle sealing it tight. With that the bottle once again looked innocent.

After a few moments he began to notice that his surroundings were loosing their distorted quality and walked towards his friends. Once he was outside the range of the mist he turned around. The red mist was fading like fog hit by sunlight and it was quickly gone, leaving a barren patch of clean flagstones and a few shreds of wood and carpet.

"So does that mean I can't have your Firebolt?" was Ron's comment as the last of the mist faded and revealed the remains of the couch, side table, carpet, and everything else that had been standing where they had just been sitting.

"How about two boxes of chocolates and a shopping spree at Flourish and Blotts?" Hermione stared at the cushion she had been sitting on, or what she thought might have been her cushion. The little bits of colour left in the green sludge looked like the pillow.

"Fine, two boxes and a shopping spree, you said. Just promise me: Ron is never to go anywhere near that box again"

OOOooOOOooOOOooOOOooOOOooOOOooOOOooOOOo

Authors Note

Thanks for the reviews.  
I have plans for that bottle and all the little items sitting in the box. All the spells used are Latin, I used my text book to check.

Elektra107, InsidemyWorld ,Shania Maxwell - Thank you

Addisonjade - Thanks, The dream will make more sense in a few more chapters. I think the beds would need spells considering the amount of porn I know my brother had under his bed. Not that I went to look. They just stick out like a sore thumb. Scuta is my cats paw I need someone that is not a Mary-Jane obviously, that can move everything the way I want it to go. More shall be learned about him soon enough. I do have a song-fic for Ranma 1/2 based on the Galaxy Song from 'The Meaning of Life.' I can see Harry as a Monty Python fan.

Moongypsy04 - I am glad it's not stupid, just give me time.

Methoslover - The dream will be explained

Lady Griever - I'm glad you like Mr Scuta. He's a mixture of Blackadder and other characters I know.

Next Chapter I am wondering what will happen when Scuta and Snape meet.

PLEASE REVIEW THEY MEAN A LOT. JUST PUSH THE LITTLE BLUE BUTTON.


	9. Where Our Hero Learns Dreams can be stra...

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Nine_

**Where our Hero Learns Dreams can be Stranger than Fiction.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I do own this set of steak knives.

"Students made it long ago," said Rincewind. "Handy way in and out after lights out." "Ah," said Twoflower, "I understand. Over the wall and out to brightly-lit tavernas to drink and sing and recite poetry, yes?" "Nearly right except for the singings and the poetry, yes," said Rincewind.  
-- (Terry Pratchett, The Light Fantastic)

The thick grey mist from the night before was back. It curled around Harry like thick smog. The spine-tingling sound of sharpening steel echoed oddly in the mist. Lifting his hands in the air Harry laughed. "Right, I was having this great dream about Lavender and a bowl of cherries, whoever has decided to stuff around with my dreams can just get lost."

The oppressive weight of despair hung heavy on his head, but in his anger and frustration he shrugged it off.

"Look I'm a growing boy, I need some sort of subconscious outlet for my sexual fantasies and unlike Ron, I cannot jerk off in the same room as five other guys." With a scream he stuck a hand up in the air giving the unseen presence the finger "I need me time!"

The force he could sense passing through the mist, paid his ranting no attention in fact the mist thickened and the red tint grew more solid.  
The warmth of the pooling blood at his feet struck Harry as it rose higher than his thighs; inching it's way upwards. "If this is Voldemort. Come out here and face me, you bigoted, sado - masochistic, bastard. "

As with the night before, the fog surrounding him remained the same and the weight drove his head forward. It took all his effort not to go down on one knee. An action that would have placed his face in the rising blood, which was now at his waist.

"Right if I pay no attention to it, this will all go away." Harry stuck his fingers in his ears and began singing. "This is the song that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some people started singing, not knowing what it was and they'll continue singing it for ever just because. This is the …"

If there was a sentient force somewhere in that mist, even if it didn't care if Harry paid attention or not, the song would surely drive them to do something. Eventually, after even boring himself Harry stopped.  
"Right you asked for this. I could be satisfy the demands of my teenage hormones at this very moment, but no." Reaching into his pocket Harry brought his wand out.

'fugo, moueoe!' A burst of blue light fed into the mist springing outwards like a firework unseen by Harry.

A shudder ran through Harry's world. The best way to describe it was if he were standing on a bed sheet that was being shaken, just before being laid on the mattress; the ground rose and fell in a giant wave. The cloying warmth of the surrounding liquid rose around him in a wave crushing over his head.  
Harry gasped and was driven under by the fluid rolling head over heels in the rush. His mouth was filled with the sickly sweet taste of blood, chocking him. His senses went on overload as the taste touched his tongue. His fangs, an inconvenient gift from his ancestors, sprung out

He covered his mouth with a hand, 'No, this was not happening. One of his dopey roommates was going to wake him any moment now'. A dark red light was beginning to form around Harry's head, when the ground stopped rolling, and Harry scrambled to his feet.

With the mist and the blood his perception of the dream world was distorted and when he heard a noise off to his left, or what he thought was his left, he fell again trying to get away. He spluttered and spat out the liquid filling his mouth. Scrambling around he dove, splashing away from the noise.

Falling again he spluttered as blood filled his mouth and nose. With a cry, he pushed his way through the mist yelling when he ran into a figure.

"Please not Voldemort, Please not Voldemort, Please not Voldemort." The other figure grunted at the weight of the boy-that-screamed-like-a-girl hit him.

Harry felt an arm come around his waist clutching him as they fell into the blood around them. Fighting to stand up, Harry jumped away but was caught by the arm; rubbing his eyes he didn't know what to do.

Raising his arm, he curled his hand in a fist and hoped whatever it was could be hurt by a simple punch to the jaw. As his vision cleared he heard an indrawn breath "Potter!" Harry cleared his eyes; standing before him dripping in gore was the always-perfect Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?" With this the world again began to move and Harry swore, clutching at dream-Draco's shoulder. "Of all the people that I could dream about it had to be Malfoy!"

"Yes, I am a figment of your imagination. Don't pay any attention to me."

Harry snorted. "My imagination is not that perverted; Mother Nature made you, and she has a worse sense of humour than me."

"I am not really here; this is all a dream. Just ignore me" As they swayed with the rising and falling ground Harry laughed.

"Well I guess I have dreamed about you before. The school was invaded by flesh eating zombies and you were there and your head was ripped off." To Harry, Draco looked ill

"That's lovely. I'll just be going now." Draco stepped forward and raised a hand drawing it down in a sharp motion. Before him a gash in the mist appeared leading to a star sparkled sky.

Harry wondered what the hell that was, but hey if it was his dream then it must mean something. As dream-Draco stepped through the hole the world again shuddered. He must have hurt something with that spell. The ground rose up and threw Harry into Draco, pushing them both through the gap in the mist.

To Harry, The world spun around him, as though he were in a top. He could not tell left from right, up from down. His stomach protested it's movements; he screamed and grasped Draco's shirtsleeve His eye's tightly closed. With a shout and a thud he found himself sitting in his bed in Gryffindor's tower.

The curtains closed around him, quiet in the rest of the room. Grasping his throat he laughed. It was all a dream, just a dream. The bed shifted, he looked down at his hands covered in blood the up; sitting on the end of the bed was Draco Malfoy. Dripping in thick clots of rapidly drying blood, with a very worried look on his face. OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO Earlier that night . . . . .  
Draco lay back in bed, his mother's letter clutched in his hand. In it she had told him that any disturbance to the dreamscape capable of throwing him out meant great danger. Not just to him, as a Nyx, but to all the dreaming people.

"My Draco.

I hope you are well. I was greatly worried by your words; in all my years of dream walking, I have never seen the landscape move by its own accord.

I do not say this to alarm you but to warn you my son. My mother told me of circumstances that could lead to mass changes in the dreams of man. Truly I hope that these have not occurred, for it would signal a great threat, to not only us but to all concerned. Many years ago my mother sat me down and explained that those who first shaped the dream; that moulded it from the unconscious minds of the human world, rebelled against a power of which we know not.

They had abused their creation and were punished; locked away in the bowls of the earth they wait. Not dead, not dreaming, just eternally aware, caught in their own minds.

These beings shaped the dreamscape and have the power to destroy it.

Inform Dumbledore of these events, while an annoying little man, he does know Hogwarts and may help you. Watch what you do. Beware their power.

I hope you heed this warning, do not walk the dreamscape. Leave it until you come home for Christmas and we can talk.

Your loving Mother

Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, Draco sighed. Peering into the dreams of his peers was one of the few entertainments he had left. That, and annoying those self-righteous gits at Gryffindor. Pompous know-it-all little brats. Oh no! He sounded like Snape; it is not good to sound like a bitter old man when you're only seventeen.

This was just wonderful, he couldn't think of a better event to occur this year. Ancient evil rising up to destroy us all. It looked like Potter was going to have his work cut out for him. And he, Draco was going to tell the drug-addled headmaster what he was Yippy! Closing his eyes Draco sighed, he needed to sleep and was certainly staying as far away from the dreamscape as possible.

The last thing he heard before he drifted to sleep was the gentle tones of Goyle snoring in the next bed.

A thick silver mist surrounded Draco when he was aware of his surroundings again. The slick snick, snack of metal threaded through the fog, and heavy cloying liquid settled around his knees. To Draco the dream was real; he could feel the cold surrounding him and the unnatural warmth of the fluid rising around his knees.

"Oh, this isn't my dream; this is someone or something else's. Great." To his particularly special vision as a Nyx, the whole dream world was threaded with strings of light which were normally in a dream. He knew he was asleep but this was different, there were no connecting points to the other dreams it was dead.

Might this be the dream of a ghost? He did not know. "Please let it not be some teacher's strange sexual fantasy, one slip up, once, and I landed in Sprouts' dream. I knew she loved plants, but what she did to that cucumber... Eww!"

Suddenly the mist was cut away from his sight by a blinding flash of blue wizard fire. It looked like the dreamer wasn't dead after all, well he was getting the hell out of here before anyone saw him, or what happened last night might happen again. With this in mind, he reached out to rip a whole in the dream wall. Normally he would just follow a dream line until he reached the tapestry and could exit peacefully, much less work.

But there were no dream lines here, forcing him to physically cut his way out so he could leave. As he raised his hand, the world around him rolled, driving him to his knees and forcing him under the warm liquid, of which he got a mouthful.

"Oww, blood! That would be right." He spluttered as he tumbled head over heels. Once the world stopped shaking he rose to his feet and began wiping the clotting blood off his face.

"Yuck, why is it always me that ends up covered in strange substances? Doesn't anyone know how hard it is to get slime stains out of a lamb's wool robe? Argghh." This dream was all wrong. Grumbling he went to leave once again and someone walked into him, muttering something about Voldemort. Fantastic.

The other scrambled around; he grunted when an elbow hit his stomach and reached around the other's body so he would not fall. When he stood still, Draco finally got a chance to look at the stranger. It was Harry I live-to-annoy-Draco-Malfoy, Potter!

"Potter"  
Harry looked up at him blood dripping down his nose.

"Malfoy! - Of all the people that I could dream about it had to be Malfoy."

Draco smiled and gritted his teeth, it had to be Harry Potter." Yes, I am a figment of your imagination. Don't pay any attention to me."

Harry snorted. "My imagination is not that perverted! Mother Nature made you, and she has a worse sense of humour than me."

'Why the little bastard! It was his tainted dream they were stuck in, who was he calling a freak. Grinding his teeth together Draco smile widened.

"I am not really here, this is all a dream. Just ignore me" As they swayed with the rising and falling ground, Harry laughed.

"Well I guess I have dreamed about you before. The school had been invaded by flesh eating zombies and you were there and your head had been ripped off."

Draco's upper lip turned up, great, Potter dreamed about him. "That's lovely. I'll just be going now."

Draco stepped forward and raised a hand drawing it down in a sharp motion; before him, a gash in the mist appeared leading to a star sparkled sky.

The world rolled around them and as he reached out to leave, a flood of blood and a heavy Harry Potter flung him forward, out of control. "Harry Bloody Potter, I'm going to kill you!"

Through a cut in the air he tumbled inelegantly out of the dreamscape and on to Harry Potter's bed, dripping in blood. This was not good.

The Gryffindor dormitory around him was silent. Then he saw Harry's head move upwards and see his face. He could feel the drying blood slide down his nose. 'I probably resemble what the muggle born call 'a deer caught in the headlights' right about now. How the hell am I going to explain this.'

OooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo

Authors Note Harry is not in his own dream he is caught in the dreams of a presence as yet unnamed. it is not his dreams.

Fast update. The next update may be a little while as I am going home to New Zealand. But I will have computer access after I get settled so don't worry.

Thank you for the reviews. Elektra107, Volleypickle16, momocolady, thankyou

Shania Maxwell: there are other things in the box as well, thanks

Inaika: Here's Draco and next chapter what they are will be properly explained and what the hell is going on will be much easier to see.

pheonixelemental: Scuta and Snape will have a moment very, very soon.

Valore: Thankyou for pointing out the plot hole, I have worked a way to close it, but I will wait until the proper moment to explain.

PLEASE REVIEW AND HIT THE LITTLE LAVENDER BUTTON JUST TO YOUR LEFT.


	10. Where our Hero Wanders the halls at Nigh...

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Ten_

**Where Our Hero Is Found Wandering The Halls**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't profit from this story. I do own a lovely first vol of Fruits Basket I got in the mail yesterday. Yah! for me.

"Students?" barked the Archchancellor. "Yes, Master. You know? They're the thinner ones with the pale faces? Because we're a university? They come with the whole thing, like rats "  
-- (Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures)

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo

"Right I'm just dreaming. This is all a dream, Harry sighed in resignation as he rubbed his eyes.  
"Why isn't it a dream?" Scrambling for his glasses he slowly cleaned them on his bedspread.  
"Draco Malfoy is not sitting on the end of my bed! that would be really, really silly." Bringing his glasses up to his face he wasn't surprised to see that the thirty seconds he had not been looking, hadn't made Draco, sitting dripping on the end of his bed, disappear.  
"Would you believe I'm a figment of your imagination, Potter"  
"For once Malfoy I wish you were"  
"Umm, yes well." Let us pause for a moment while we see Draco lost for words.

"Now this might be a silly question; who knows, we could have got drunk last night and ended up together, but what the hell JUST HAPPENED"  
As a drip of blood slipped over his lips Draco blew it off spraying a fine mist over Harry's bed.  
"Oww, gross Malfoy"  
"Well if you hadn't noticed, you twit, we're both covered in blood!" "Arsehole"  
"Wanker"  
"Twat"  
"Muggle loving circus freak"  
"Inbred Bastard"  
"Fetid piece of distended rectum"  
"Oh Malfoy, you wound me to the quick. Now let's shut up before anyone hears us and wonders why we're sitting on my bed together covered in blood"  
"Potter I didn't know you liked that sort of thing"  
"Shut up! this is all a big practical joke, isn't it"  
"Yes, Potter. I have nothing better to do then coat the both of us in blood, and sit on the end of you bed. Any more bright ideas?"

Harry dragged a hand back through his hair and, as the blood dried, left the tuffs of it sticking up. Draco looked at Harry, who had a frown on his face and was staring at him with grim determination. It was with a second look that he noticed that the hair Harry had pushed up with his hand was moving. Not moving as under gravity, but moving like sea anemones, caught in the tide.  
"Look Potter, I don't want to seem an alarmist, but your hair's moving"  
"Just ignore it and it will go away. That's what I do."

Suddenly Harry started moving, pulling his curtain to the side and glancing out, without talking he crept around to the foot of his bed and his trunk. Draco couldn't see this, inside the bed hangings and was imagining Harry waking all his friends and gathering them to see what a complete loser he looked.  
Waiting for the curtain to be ripped back and the hyena like laughter of the Gryffindor pack. The blond drew his shoulders in tight. He should have listened to his mother. When he left Harry's dream, he must have pulled Harry with him and, instead of landing in his own bed, had ended up in Potter's. Of all the luck!

Harry had not idea about what had just happened. He had been having the dream that had haunted him for the past couple of nights, but this time Malfoy was in it. Potter's luck strikes again. Something was going on again and he had no idea what it was.

Though when the blond git mentioned his hair, he realised that it probably had something to do with changing species. Again why couldn't his dead relatives have left him a stamp collection? But no, he had to get the funky genetics!

Creeping from his bed, Harry quietly opened his truck and removed his Invisibility cloak and a soft wool hat, which he slammed down on his head. The only light in the room was from the crescent moon shinning through the window.

Right they had to go to Dumbledore. It was probably part of Voldemort's new hobby 'How to Conquer the World and Bring it Under your Domineering Heel in a Weekend'. With a special chapter on how to annoy your arch-enemy and maniacal laughter.

To some it would have seemed that Draco jumped, when Harry's head pushed through the bed's curtains, but to those of us who know Draco, we must be mistaken.  
"Look, keep quite and I'll sneak you out of Gryffindor. We're going to see Dumbledore."

"What can that manipulative old fart tell me?"

"Hey, I'm not the one in my enemy's bed on a Tuesday morning covered in blood! I think we could all do with a little talk. Can you see any other way of getting out of here?"

Draco frowned, the self-righteous little prig was right. Damn, He was going to have to do what Potter said.

"Fine, what do you want me to do?"

"I have an invisibility cloak, if you'd just stick close to me, we can get down to the headmaster's office."

"And of course he is going to be in his office at five in the morning!"

"Well have you got a better plan?" Harry demanded; lack of sleep did not make for a happy Gryffindor.

"You let me borrow your cloak, I go back to my dormitory and we forget this ever happened."

"I'm not giving you my Cloak! Ferret."

"You know I like ferrets, so not a good insult."

"I'm not giving you my cloak. We need to tell Dumbledore what's going on." From outside Harry's someone spoke.  
"Harry shut up and go to sleep. Some of us are dreaming out here!"

The two boys slammed their mouths shut and looked at each other. They didn't have much of a choice they were going to have to get the hell out of the Gryffindor's bedroom. With some shuffling and muttered swearing the two got close enough to each other to be covered by the cloak but not too close that they had to touch.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Walking through the Gryffindor's common room with Harry in the lead, the two boys were quiet as they left and walked through the dark hallways, in the general direction of the hallway, down to the dungeons and the stairway leading to the headmaster's office.

"Potter have you ever thought of showering before going to bed? "  
"Malfoy, have you ever thought that the fact we are both covered in blood may have an affect on our body odour"  
It carried on like this until they reached a branching in the hallway, and both went in opposite directions.  
"Let me borrow the cloak, I'll get it back to you tomorrow"  
"No, how am I to get back to my common room? It's my cloak."

A faint muttering could be heard, coming from the further regions of the corridor where Draco now stood.  
"Bugger."

"Get back under the cloak, now!" Doing so they turned to run back down the hall they had just come from, when they heard a cat's meow echo towards them. Turning again the two boys headed down the only route left to them. Rushing down the hallway, as silently as they could, they completely missed Mr Scuta coming from the opposite direction, who was quietly whistling, under his breath.  
With a breathless shout Draco and Harry ended up sprawled across the corridor, with the cloak leaving half of them uncovered. Mr Scuta had landed on his arse and was smiling softly at the strange sight of Harry and Draco's partially exposed body parts.

"Get off me, you Git."

"Sit and swivel on it ferret!" The two boys argued and shoved at each other until they got to their feet and out from under the Invisibility cloak. To see a grinning Mr Scuta, standing over them.

"Hello Boys, What are you doing out at this time in the morning"  
For some reason a little voice, and the conversation he had had with Mione and Ron the night before, popped into Harry's mind.

"Planning world domination, Mr Scuta Sir."

"That's good. It's nice to see young people planning for their future"

"Yes Sir."

"So what were you up to this morning?"

"Teaching the flying monkey's Sir."

"Teaching them what?"

"How to aim Sir."

"And why are the two of you covered in blood?"

"We learnt never to put live ammo in the monkey's guns. That's why we were practising."

"You should always be seeking out new knowledge."

"Yeah Sir we learnt monkey's explode like a soft bana … "

At this point Draco, who had been stunned to silence by Harry's excuses, slammed a hand over his mouth.  
"Ahh Sir, don't listen to Harry, he's hysterical. I was taking him to see the headmaster, right away." Scuta hummed.

"And who are you young man?"

"Draco Malfoy, Sir. I'm helping Potter here, out of the kindness of my own heart. As you can see Potter isn't quite in his right mind at the moment."

"So no flying monkeys?"

"No flying monkeys, Sir."

"What a pity." From behind the two students someone coughed startling all three.

"And what are you doing Potter?" Somehow Snape had found them.

If he stood in the middle of the Sahara desert and broke a rule, Snape would be there in under five minutes. The anal retentive bastard. Harry scowled. Mr Scuta's smile just widened. The hand that Draco still held over Harry's mouth was quickly whipped away. Draco looked downright embarrassed, Otherwise known as 'I wish the earth would open beneath my feet and swallow me whole'.

"Mr Snape, It's Mr Scuta we met at the start of the year's staff party. You were dancing with Mrs McGonagall and tripped over her robe, if I remember correctly you fell in the pot plant." Snape closed his eyes.  
"Yes, I seem to remember you, what were you planning for these two miscreants?"

"Oh well Mr Potter here is very sick and being such a helpful friend Mr Malfoy is taking him to see the headmaster."

"Mr Malfoy is helping Potter?" Malfoy grimaced and nodded his head.

"Yes Sir."

"You do know it is five o'clock in the morning!" Harry went to speak but Draco forced a heel down on his down on his toes.

"Yes sir, but Potter is very sick and I think he really needs to see the headmaster."

"Draco I am not stupid, you should have no idea what Potter is doing at five in the morning, and I don't want to know what you're doing covered in what looks suspiciously like blood."

"Mr Snape, I think the boys should get to the headmaster as soon as possible."

"Well Mr Scuta as a Professor I believe that Potter will be facing detention, for being out past curfew, for the next two weeks and let's say twenty points off Gryffindor."

"What about Mr Malfoy?"

"Well from his reaction I would have to suggest that he is under the influence of a strong hallucinogenic."

"These boys seem to be having a serious problem. Mr Snape, and I think they should go to see the headmaster."

Draco made a pitiful little smile and made puppy dog eyes at Snape.  
"Please can we go? I think Harry's really sick."

He winced when Harry stood on his foot, at the implied insult. Snape caved at the Slytherin's puppy dog eyes and sighed.  
"Fine, but Potter still has detention with Filch for a week."

"Well Mr Snape I'm sure you know best; being a Professor here for so long."

Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder,  
"A weeks detention that would be great Professor. We'll just be going now. Bye."

With that Harry began walking quickly down the hallway away from Snape, and toward Dumbledore's office. Draco hissed at Harry from the corner of his mouth as they were walking away.  
"Flying monkeys? You're mad Potter"

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Behind them Snape and Scuta stood silently for a moment.  
"So, what are you doing wandering the hallways at 5 in the morning Mr Snape?"

"I have extremely important research that needs constant attention"  
"So why are you walking the hallways?"

"I needed a break from the fumes, they can get terribly thick."

"So, it wouldn't have anything to do with Madam Hooch's set of rooms being in the next corridor, would it? Because I can keep a secret."

Snape sniffed and stuck his nose in the air,  
"Absolutely not! I just needed a breath of air". Snape brought a hand up to his chin and sneered. "And what right do you have to question me"  
"Oh absolutely no right, Mr Snape. What a Professor does in his own time is his own business. But who's the one that has to clean it up? I ask you."

Tut-tutting under his breath Mr Scuta shook his head and smiled at the fuming Professor.  
"Are you all right Mr Snape? Have you checked your blood pressure lately? Your face is quite red"  
"Good night Mr Scuta." Snape walked past the caretaker and down the hallway, in the opposite direction the two boys had taken.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Scuta smiled; he had felt something during the past two nights. Old magic being awakened. And who should appear, bright eyed, bushy tailed and covered in blood, just after he felt the weft of the weave flex, but Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, closely followed by a skulking Severus Snape.

Now call him suspicious but when two well know childhood enemies are found wandering the halls covered in blood it's not going to be because they wanted a midnight snack. Now it could all be a coincidence, but he had never believed in coincidences.

It looked like he should keep an eye on them, even if so far, he had found no sign of an Erinyes. But then, unless they were going around wearing giant billboard saying: 'I am an Erinyes, Please Kidnap Me.' He hadn't really been looking.

It was the food. No matter the job he was on, he always seemed to end up in the places with the worst kind of food; but the dining was excellent at Hogwarts. And there were so many stupid people. Even though he expected to see Noddy, Big Ears and the Gollywogs every time he heard the students speak, the food was nearly worth it.

When he looked at all of those who had gone before him in the pay of the 'Fuchsia Lord' were admittedly nasty, they raised suspicion from the beginning by being creepy and awful to Harry and his friends. Those that had acted nice and jolly with the 'Famous Five' did it so openly for everyone to see. It was a fine line to be a non threatening care-taker, while not so unusual that he merited further investigation. Kids could be so nosey.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Under Hogwarts, in a room that had not been seen by an outsider in millennia, the faceless figure was bouncing around in his prison.

For the first time in years he had felt something from the outside. Most people would say being by yourself for over two thousand years would make you a little mad, and when people claimed you were insane to begin with, it was not that far to travel.

He wasn't mad! He just got these bad headaches, and he felt these years by himself had only refined what he was. He didn't know if it was night or day outside his prison but if someone was skimming the edges of his conscious mind, sooner or later a crack was going to appear, and he would be there with the crowbar to widen it to see the light of day. With the death of an Erinyes he could be free once again. Mwahuuahahaha.

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoo

Authors Notes

Harry and Draco will be together, but they still hate each other at this point. It's more fun this way.

Being sick I think promoted this chapter. I blame it on the cold drugs.

This chapter beta'd by Licelli, thankyou very much.

Thankyou for reviewing they are very helpful.  
Elektra107,stray-89,licelli,GreyGranian - Thanks

Addisonjade - I actually didn't notice it was a cliff hanger until you mentioned it. Because I know what's happening. Mean me. Lamb chops is evil, all the songs that have no ending are evil, created for small children to sing on long car trips. Ahh the memories.

Shania Maxwell - Harry is totally into denying reality.

pheonixelemental - I hate to imagine the dreams Draco has seen in his time as a Nyx.

Manda - Lots more Harry Draco interaction, now the question is are they going to meet up with Dumbledore or just snap and try to kill each other before they get there?

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ENCOURAGEMENT IS APPRECIATED

PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW


	11. I See Trouble On The Way

_Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Eleven_

**I See Trouble On The Way.**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and all his little wizard minions, but give me a good thunder storm and soon I will have my own to play with.

I have my own yahoo group, where you can find this and my other stories not on FF.N For updates and other info have a look. There are also some pictures of Erniyes and original fiction. I am having fun setting it up. Just take away the spaces.

http/groups. yahoo. com/ group/ phorcysfanfiction

Of course, just because we've heard a spine-chilling, blood-curdling scream of the sort to make your very marrow freeze in your bones doesn't automatically mean there's anything wrong"  
-- (Terry Pratchett, Soul Music)

Fawkes sat on a perch better to say in Albus Dumbledore's office. It was a special fire proof perch especially made for the phoenix. With his head tucked under a wing, his little snores were the only noise in the dark room. For various reasons he no longer slept in the same room as Dumbledore, the phoenix protested that the old wizard snored like a freight train and many years ago had settled for sleeping at least 100 meters and several feet thick stone walls away.

The phoenix was having a lovely dream; a hundred naked nubile girls were feeding him cherries, and strawberries. Fawkes was a dirty old bird and Dumbledore and tried to cure him of his little habits. But the female prefect's for the past twenty years all thought there was a Phoenix statue in their bathroom. Happily waffling under his wing he was very annoyed when angry voices outside the office woke him up.

"Right, we're here, now give me the cloak and I'll go back to my room"  
"Bugger off, we need to tell Dumbledore"

"What don't you tell Dumbledore? I bet after every wet dream you come up here and pour your poor little Gryffindor heart out"

"Just shut up, Malfoy. I'm not the one who appeared on someone else's bed. . . . .Now that I think about it, What's with that"  
"It's nothing to do with you Potter"

"It was my bed you ended up on." The argument downstairs went on for a few more minutes before the boys realised that no one was coming down.

The phoenix, smirked, or at least it would have if it could. What did the two boys expect? It was 2o'clock in the morning and they thought Dumbledore was going to pull his wrinkly old arse out of bed for them to complain to?. He was in bed dreaming of sherbet lemons, most likely. The dirty old man!

At the bottom of the steps both boys had reached the ends of their ropes. They had been stuck together for the past two hours which was longer than they ever had been before and neither was having a bonding moment. The blood that had once been red and sticky was now brown and dry making both boys look like victims of a food fight in a slaughter yard.  
After narrowly escaping detentions from the faculty, they were not happy people.

"You know Malfoy; I have this bottle I really think you should open"

"What the hell are you talking about, Potter?" Harry could feel his hair moving under his hat, it was weird and sighed.

"Malfoy, grow up...Wanker"

"I'm not the one who thinks his shit doesn't stink"

"This is getting us nowhere. Stuff it! let's forget this ever happened, and go back to bed." Draco perked up.

"Fine, yes let's." Both boys turned in opposite directions, and went their separate ways, Harry keeping his cloak. Only to hear a scrambling noise behind him and a yelp.

"What the hell have you done, Potter?" Turning quickly Harry saw Malfoy down on his hands and knees one hand clutching at the clutching the cobblestones, the other scrambling at his neck.

"What's wrong this time? I thought we were just going to forget tonight ever happened." He started walking down the hallway again. Only to hear scrabbling and a short scream. Malfoy was several meters down the hall, exactly as far away from Harry as when the Gryffindor had started walking.

"Okay, now you're just being a pain"

"Potter I can't get away from you, just shut up, and stop walking, your choking me"

Looking at the Slytherin Harry saw that he must have fallen forwards and without warning landed on his face, smashing his nose open on the hard stone floor.

He started walking backwards away from Draco to see that, with every footstep, Draco was dragged along with him, head first. Harry dropped his head on his chest and closed his eye, he brought his fingers up and pressed down hard on his eye lids. Little blue and red spots danced in front of his sight as he yelled. "Why is it all ways me?" the sound echoed in the empty halls, along with Draco's little pants of pain.

He just wanted a normal year, but then normal for him probably did involve flying monkey's. Every year something happened and no one asked him, 'Oh Harry would you like a holiday?' or 'How about you skip the exams this year, as you've just killed a Dark Lord.' They expect him to be this wonderful saviour but at the same time act like a normal teen.

'Normal teen' that has got to be an oxymoron. Added to all this was learning at some time in his family tree someone had decide to cross pollinate. There were not enough words to describe what he wanted to do to who acted like he should be pleased with his place in this world.  
After a few minutes Harry walked slowly back to the Slytherin. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" He sounded cold and quiet. Everything for another minute was being carefully bottled up.

Draco sighed resignedly as he stood up and dusted his pants down, which didn't really help seeing they were covered in dried blood any way.  
"No I haven't the foggiest. This night just keeps getting better, doesn't it scar face." Harry chose to ignore the insult for once and scratched his head.

"I think maybe I might have an idea of what's causing some of this. maybe." 'And, it's called Potter's luck, if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong'

Draco moved quickly and grabbed the front of Harry's pyjamas and scowled.  
"I knew it. It's always your fault"  
Ripping the hands off his shirt Harry's anger rose, through the careful no feeling he had pulled into place. "I'm not to blame for anything! It can't always be my fault." The end of the sentence was less of a statement and more like a question. Unspoken were the words 'can it.'

Draco grabbed Harry's right arm which he was pointing at the blonde. "You're always at the centre of some great cock up. Perfect Potter, can do no wrong, is always right and comes out smelling of roses." Harry tried to wrench his arm out of Draco's grasp. Harry's fist clenched and he brought it up to Draco's face.

"Far be it from me to tell you, but you are not the centre of the universe the sun and the stars do not revolve around your big head." With some effort Harry brought his free arm up and grabbed Draco's hand to rip it off him. He gasped when Draco kept talking.

"Oh no, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on; I don't want to have to follow you around like some sycophant Gryffindor"  
Ripping the hand off him, Harry turned to try walking away and found that Draco had brought his arm around his neck in a choke hold. The Slytherin had snapped.  
"This is all your fault, I'm covered in blood, my nose is broken, I'm cold, and tired, and I can't get away from you"

Harry choked as Draco tried to strangle him. Under his breath the blonde began muttering. "I'll give you bloody flying monkeys"

With the tightening of Draco's fingers, Harry's face went red and his fingers scrambled at his throat. Draco kneed the Gryffindor in the back making black spots dance in front of his eyes. Gasping, Harry couldn't breathe. Now Harry had not had a good summer, he hadn't had a good year, and he certainly wasn't having a good night. As he felt Draco's finger tighten around his neck all he could think of was that for once everything hadn't been his fault; he hadn't gone anywhere or touched anything that wasn't his. It wasn't for once, his fault.

The injustice of the statement and to have Draco Malfoy, stuck with him was the last straw. Something snapped inside his mind at that moment and a door he didn't know existed was unlocked.

A part of his Erinyes' heritage came to the front. And a bright blue flame flared through his mind. Bringing a hand up Draco's choke hold Harry wrenched Draco's right hand away from his neck. And moved so quickly that before Draco knew it he was held down on his knees with his arm behind it back, behind him Harry held his face close to Draco's blood crusted ear.

"You've been very bad haven't you? I can smell every lie, every untruth, everything that has made your soul a little dirtier." While in another time and place having someone whisper that in his ear would have thrilled Draco, Harry's voice was cold and sibilant and made ice stream down his spine, as all anger left his body.

"When you were three years old you broke you mother's pearl necklace and blamed it on the house elf Tibby, when you were twelve and a half you broke a promise to Millicent Bulstrode that you would go out with her to your Christmas Ball." Harry drew a deep breath and sniffed.  
Draco felt Harry's warm breath on his ear, and shivered.

"You are so very lucky, Malfoy, That that is all you have done." Harry could see everything Draco had done every time he lied, stole, and broke a promise. It was all so petty and pathetic.

Blue flames were shinning in front of his eyes and left him with and overwhelming urge to hurt and teach this young fool a lesson. The Slytherin was a relatively good person. Looking down he could smell the faint taint in the boy, it made his gums ache and without thinking Harry acted, biting on Draco's shoulder, near his face, and breaking the skin.  
Draco was freaking out. One minute he had been relieving all his pent up anger by throttling that inane Gryffindor, and then the little bastard had him on his knees.

OoOoOo

This night had to end soon. Potter's breath made Draco's skin crawl, but what was worse was he didn't hate the feeling, just the person standing behind him.  
What drivel was Potter going on about now; how did he know these thing's that even he had trouble remembering. Damn Gryffindor, it just kept getting weirder and weirder.

Harry new presence was making his mind jump. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and could feel the wet warmth of Harry's mouth on his skin. 'Oh great! The freak just bit him.' With that though the Prince of Slytherin fainted.

OoOoOo

As Draco slipped from consciousness. Harry's willpower slid back into play. He could taste rich dark chocolate in his mouth, and could feel leather in his left hand. Blue flame faded from his eyes and he could see clearly again.

He had just bitten Draco Malfoy, his blood was in his mouth, he told himself to spit it out and throw up, but he could not control himself and swallowed the little blood inside his mouth. He enjoyed the taste of Draco's blood.

Noticing an object in his left hand he looked down; it was the whip he had first found in his grandmothers box. 'Podargo' or something. Funky genetics' strikes again. If he had a time machine and a shot gun, things would be very different. Draco had slumped at his feet and the strand of leather surrounded his unconscious face. For some reason Harry just wanted to take the Slytherin to a warm dark place and never leave again. Sighing Harry struck the side of Draco's head a few time's and winced when he remembered he had just broken his nose. Second night back to Hogwarts and he was going to visit the hospital ward. That might be a new record for him.

He was definitely going to sit down with those papers and whatever the hell he could find in the library, and find out any more information about Erinyes. For all he knew, if he didn't watch out he might end up standing on the teachers table and dancing the Macarena in his togs. Making sure not to shake the Slitheryn's head or jar his face in any way, Harry carefully unwound the six metres long whip. Called a bullwhip in some countries, it felt like cow leather but different; hints of red struck through the bound handle and it's long braided length. At the top of the handle a silver cuff sat, etched in to the metal two gorgons' sat, their snake bound tresses and frightful faces appropriate for a whip of an Erinyes.

It was a larger version of that which he had found in in his grandmother's gift to him. It had appeared before the blue flame had obscured his sight, wrapping around Draco's neck. It had not wanted him to part from the Slytherine.

The leather felt warm in his hand. He finally wrapped in around his upper arm and had it hang down covered by the invisibility cloak as he picked Draco up and carefully carried him to the hospital ward. Unknowingly clutching the Slytherin close to his chest.

A/N

If I forgot to mention I have a yahoo group, for updates and new stories. Plus pictures. Just take out the spaces of the address below.

http/ groups. yahoo. com/ group/ phorcysfanfiction

Please take a look.

Thankyou for reviewing Shania Maxwell and Elektra07

Earthwytch - Harry with a whip, hmmm

Pheonixelemental - Cold's are bad, drugs are good. In this instance anyway

Addisonjade - World domination is just to much effort for some bad guys.

JuMiKu - I studied Oedipus for my Ancient Literature class. The mythological greeks had messed up families.

I have finally brought the tickets to go home to New Zealand, on the 18th June. I will hopefully have another chapter with my beta before then.

Thank you for reviewing.

Please review.


	12. If You Deal With Devil

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Twelve_

**If you deal with the Devil . . .**

Disclaimer: He's Alive! Alive! I don't own Harry Potter but the lighting will strike soon and I will have my own.

Wonderfully beta'd by Ashley, big round of applause.

Check out my yahoogroup at:

http/ groups. yahoo. com/ group/ phorcysfanfiction

The vermine is a small black and white relative of the lemming, found in the cold Hublandish regions. Its skin is rare and highly valued, especially by the vermine itself; the selfish little bastard will do anything rather than let go of it.

Discworld wildlife (Terry Pratchett, Sourcery)

Nagini peered intently at her new toy. She had been playing with it for several days and never tired of pushing the little ball around. At the moment she had it posed at the top of the winding stairs leading to the marble foyer. Wormtail stared out of his plastic ball in terror and exhausted dread. Voldemort had placed him inside the Hamster ball nearly a week ago, and since then his snake had been using him as her toy since. With what the rat swore was a snake snicker, she nudged the plastic ball off the top step and he tumbled head over heels down the stairs.

The little ball bounced and rolled to a stop against the Dark Lord's study door. Wormtail clutched his little ratty chest and wondered if he could have a heart attack. It didn't take long for Nagini to appear in front of the doors next to him. Squeaking, he could feel the sweat coating his fur. He had once been a plump rat now he was skin and bones and had a nervous tick. Nagini wrapped herself around the little ball and pushed it in a new direction. Oh, now where was the homicidal bitch taking him? Contemplating ways of sneaking poison into her next meal, he tried to keep balanced inside the moving ball. Until he saw where the mad snake was taking him: Voldemort's bedroom.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the warm dark room little light shone on the rich furnishings. A fire in the large hearth had burnt down and soft red coals sent a hellish light over the room. What could be seen was a large four-poster bed on a raised step, it's heavy curtains opened, a body sleeping inside. In a dark corner of the room electric light shone; bright colours flashing to the accompaniment of the cheesy muzak of a hand-held computer game . " Past the commando penguins, get the red jewel, and onto level ten. Who rules? I rules. Who's the best? I'm the best." The sleeping figure on the bed moved at this noise. More cheesy muzak sounded in the room.

"What the hell is that. How many times have I told you Peter I don't need a night light. God damn rat." The grumpy mumblings of a cranky 'Dark Lord' over shadowed the game machine, and it stopped.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Voldemort yanked his blankets up under his neck and clutched them tight. "What are you doing here?"

Chucking the game up in the air, it disappeared in mid-flight. William Lovettes, who had spent the last week working at Hogwarts, smiled; he would never have picked the 'Dark Lord' for sleeping in pyjamas, especially not a pair with little golden snitches on them. He always had a mental image of a long white 'Wee Willy Winkie' style nightgown.

"Oh, you know, not much. Wondering if you could splice albatross and spider monkey DNA"

"What?"

"Well I was thinking you needed the smallest monkey possible, combined with the biggest wings it you wanted it to work."

Jerking back the covers of his bed, Voldermort rose from his bed, and snatched his dressing gown on. "I really don't care to hear about your lunacy at this hour in the morning. If you would tell me why your here." Acting the not so gracious host, Voldemort settled into a chair next to the dying fire.

Swinging up from the chair he had been sitting in William walked over to a chair opposite the 'Dark Lord'. "It's been a week, and I thought you might like to hear what I've been up to. Of course, if your not interested I can just go do my own thing."

Voldemort sighed and summoned a cut glass bottle from the sideboard. He was going to need it, he knew. "No, I am ever eager to hear your version of reality. It is always something to ponder."

Picking up a book from a small table next to the chair he sat on, William whistled when he opened to the first page. "I never knew you could do that with a snake. Well you live and learn don't you."

Voldemort snatched the book from his hands and placed it carefully beside him. Repeating his trick of pulling something from nowhere, William brought forth a heavy ceramic mug, steam gently rising from it, and sipped. "Have you thought about what I mentioned last week?"

Sipping his own drink, Voldemort shook his head in wonder. "I'm sorry but I don't know what you mentioned."

"Changing your name. 'Fushia Lord.' would be much scarier. Much more intimidating than 'The-Man-Who-Let-The-Boy-Live.' If you do decide to change your name, I know a friend who's a screen printer and I can get some cheap deals. "

"You are here for a reason I hope, not just to annoy me."

"That's just a side benefit. Actually I wanted to know if you know what's buried under Hogwarts." Swirling his mug in one hand William looked into it and not at the 'Dark Lord', who was slowly sipping his own drink.

"I have heard stories, about a chamber."

William waved a hand and dismissed Voldemort's line of conversation.

"Yes, yes, the chamber of secrets, big snake, you have to blind to not know about that. But below that there is something else, isn't there. Something you forgot to mention." William had an inquisitive look on his face all his attention focussed on Voldemort.

"There maybe . . ."

William laughed, "Maybe. You know if your planning on taking over the world you can't depend on maybes. What haven't you told me?" William leant forward, the steaming mug falling from his fingers and disappearing before it hit the floor.

"Do you know why Hogwarts was built where it was?"

"Does it matter? I heard that Gryffindor got a tax break because the land was too magical." There was a light thudding sound from outside the room.

"Well research has lead me to believe that there was an older building on that site. Extremely older. That may have been a place of worship. And, as a place of worship it was placed, on the site of a prison. Of course, I will admit my Etruscan is very rusty, but under this temple they said lay Stheno, last of the 'Gorgon's'."

The spy leant back in his chair and laughed hard. "One of the three sister's faces ugly gargoyle's feel sorry for her. You mean she's been stuck down there since the Gods know when. She's going to be pissed when she gets out. I can see her now..." He shook his head and snickered. "How sure are you it's Stheno under there? There were many captured and buried during the wars." Voldemort's smile was like an oil slick.

"I am reasonably certain." Unspoken were the Voldemort's words 'certain enough to risk your life not my own'.

"Would she have anything to do with my employment?"  
"There may be. In some of the writings a connection with Erinyes and Gorgons was spoken ofand some did mention that the sacrifice of an Erinyes upon her prison would free her. And I am not one to pass up an immortal, who would be very grateful to the one who freed her."

From the same place the last mug came from William held another with a different pattern. He leant his elbow on the chairs arm and placed his chin in his palm. "I guess having someone that can turn an entire army to stone with a glance would be kind of handy."

The light thudding coming from the bedroom door continued. Voldemort jerked out of his chair and stalked over to the double doors and flung them open only to have Wormtail's little ball roll between his legs. It rolled across the room to the foot of William's chair, chased by a swiftly moving Nagini. Picking the plastic ball up, William turned it back and forth in front of him.

"Now this is a perfect Christmas gift. 'Rat in a Ball.'"

Voldemort closed his doors and sat back down, pouring another drink.

"You have a very ambitious plan, but how are you going to get into the school to kill the Erinyes? While Dumbledore doesn't have the best track record. He is known for his amazing last minute saves. Especially against you." William began to absentmindedly toss the rat from hand to hand, watched hypnotically by Nagini at his feet.

"I had been hoping for your assistance." Voldemort's tone was slightly less grating.

"No, you are paying me for one job. When that is done I may consider another, but not until then."

Voldemort poked the dying fire until the coals burnt again. "It would be a terrible thing if the papers you so desire were to come to an unfortunate accident."

"You do well to make sure those papers are in perfect condition when you hand them over. While you are the 'Dark Lord', it doesn't give you leave to cheat me." His voice remained light and laughing as though he were just about to tell a joke. "I find truly creative violent threats are wasted on many people." Wormtail continued to leisurely pass from one hand to another, the snakes head following it's flight.

Placing his glass on the table beside him Voldemort leant back in his chair. "I would never dare to cheat you, Mr Lovettes. Is there anything you can tell me about the Erniyes yet?"

"I have narrowed it down to a group of twenty."

"May I dare ask how you managed that?"

William smiled and chucked the rat ball high.

"Simple. If anything in the school happens, anything at all, it all happens around the boy Harry Potter. It can all be traced back to him. It is easy to begin any search with those that surround the child. Which reminds me! As part of my search, there is something you can provide for me."

Warily 'the Dark Lord.' nodded.

"I did a little research on Erinyes, just a quick google."

Voldemort assumed this was a strange new magical oracle.

"They have an ancestral enemy, one of many, in the Stymphalian's. Birds that devour the flesh of men. A thousand chicken dinners fight back." William smirked at his own joke. "These birds can hunt like the keenest hound, and their feathers are made of steel, cutting through even the hide of an Erinyes. Now, I heard that one of your own possesses the forest in Arcadia these birds reside in. For me to hold some would greatly increase my chance of success."

Voldemort contemplated the demand. For some of his death eaters to capture the birds and bring them to this country would cost greatly, but the outcome, to have at his beck and call a Gorgon, one of the blood of Chronus, a child of Ceto, sister to the infamous Medusa, was worth nearly anything to possess. The deaths of a few weak Death Eaters would not matter in the long run.

Nodding slowly, he agreed. "It can be done. I will have one of my own contact you when they are ready for you to take possession of them. Just remember, I want the Erinyes."

"I have a better idea: I get back to you in a week and pick them up." Voldemort was not learning who his cover was at Hogwarts.

"That could also be arranged."

Smiling widely, William jumped to his feet tossing the 'Rat Ball.' to Nagini who was waiting for it mouth open to catch.

"Great. I'll be seeing you then. You should really get back to bed. You need your beauty sleep." With that he strode out of the room evaporating as he went through the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Voldemort saved the plastic ball from Nagini's mouth, where she had been trying to chew it open. Cracking it open, the frazzled rat tumbled out and quickly grew into a trembling Peter Pettigrew. The stench of a mortally frighten rat man who has been stuck in a little plastic ball for nearly a week filled the air.

"Wormtail, I want you to floo Parkinson, he has something I want." He took a deep breath. "And have a bath while your at it."

Peter scurried out of the room dodging a snap from Nagini, annoyed that she had lost a toy. Crawling up onto her master she wrapped herself around Voldemort's chest and waist. Rubbing his forehead, Voldemort sighed. A Dark Lord's work was never done.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Authors Note_

I am finally in New Zealand; this chapter was the last I wrote before I flew here. Lucky you. I am still unsure when I will have solid computer access so am able to write more but I will not stop the stories. I swear.

See there is a plot it is not all random.

Just remember that just because Voldemort says something that it's the truth.

Thankyou very much for reviewing, please continue.

Shania Maxwell, pheonixelemental, Jay, Inaika. Thankyou

Please review, otherwise I get ambushed by my other stories plot bunnies.


	13. And The Penguins Will Attack

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Thirteen_

**And the Penguins Shall Attack . . . . .**

Disclaimer: If the universe is indeed infinite and any thing can happen, then maybe and possibly I still don't own Harry Potter.

Thankyou very much for beta' this story, Licelli and Ashley you both deserve a round of applause.

"Today Is A Good Day For Someone Else To Die!" -- (Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay)

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The hospital wing of Hogwarts was almost deserted, except for Poppy Pomphrey and Draco Malfoy. Poppy peered down at the sleeping figure of the Slytherine and sighed. Damn that was seven sickles and Hooch was never going to shut up about wining their bet. She had been so sure Harry Potter would be the first to be placed in the Hospital wing this year. Which didn't mean that Harry didn't have something to do with the blonde's appearance.

She had found the unconscious boy, sprawled over one of the hospital bed's. With his clothes covered in dried in blood she had feared the worse but a quick charm cleaned him up and she discovered nothing wrong with the boy except some recent scars around his neck.

Pulling the curtains around his bed Poppy smiled she was going to enjoy his explanations in the morning about how he got here; covered in blood and unconscious.

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The female prefect's bathroom was very quiet; most of the school were in bed fast asleep, 'Lucky Bastards.' Hermione thought to herself. She was tired as she had been up late looking for information about Harry's new problem. 'When did he not have a problem, and when was it not left up to her to solve it for him.' There were times when she wondered if the boys would forget their heads if she wasn't there to tell them where they were; and sometimes they were firmly entrenched where the sun didn't shine.

It had taken her most of the week to find any information about Harry's new family history, and eventually she had fallen back to the few books in Hogwarts library that dealt with muggle mythology. The wizards had carefully eliminated all information about the Erinyes in their own books but the myths that she had been able to find were very interesting and she was going to enjoy the look on Harry's face when he heard them. 'The small pleasures of life.' She didn't mind doing this for him but she wished that sometimes the lazy bugger would do his own work.

Erinyes could be found in ancient Greek and Roman muggle mythology. She knew she had recognised some of the names in Harry's papers. Goddesses identified with Roman furies. They were a type of mythic police force for the gods.

Created when the drops of blood from Uranus castration hit the ground. Harry's face was going to be priceless; she needed to borrow a camera! Though it made her wonder how you explain that to your kids when they ask where babies come from.

They were also known as the 'Eumenides' meaning 'The Kindly Ones' or 'The Gracious Goddesses' a name meant to flatter them, to avoid their wrath. They had a terrible temper and were considered the protectors of the social order. Their essential function was to avenge crime and especially offences against the family. The big punishment was to send their victims mad and send them to Hades.

The Eriniyes were grouped with the Moirae or Parcae 'The Fates.' and as such they had no laws other than their own, which even Zeus had to obey. In the pictures that she had been able to find, they had been depicted as winged spirits with their hair entwined with snakes and the furies held whips or torches in their hands. Which explains the whip in Harry's little box.

The Erinyes were only known to be three in number and she had found their names Tisiphone, Alecto and Megaera. Tisiphone was the name of the Erinyes who had written Harry's letter.

All this information was well and good but next time the boys wanted some research done they could move their lazy arses and do it themselves; just as long as Ron was not allowed near any potential explosives.

Pulling her clothes off for the bath. Hermione sighed and pushed all thoughts of other people's problems from her mind and eased herself into the large marble pool that was the centre piece of the female prefect's bathroom, with its impressive statue of a phoenix perched in the centre of the swimming pool sized bath.

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Draco rubbed his face; all he wanted was some dreamless Harry Potter free Sleep. When he got to sleep for the past week all his subconscious had been able to sprout were worrying repeats of Tuesday night. Where after being knocked out by boy wonder, 'he had not fainted!' Draco Malfoy does not faint. He had woken up in the infirmary with a headache, and a sore shoulder. With the thought 'Harry Potter's turned into a vampire. Just what the world bloody needs.' running through his foggy mind.

Poppy had been standing at the end of his bed when he had woken up and for a moment he thought he was back in one of Blaise's his room mate's, sexual fantasy's. It had taken him an hour to convince her he had not taken up sleep walking and didn't need to miss the second day back at school. When he checked himself over later to prove to Dumbledore that Potter was dangerous, he was surprised to find no trace of Potter's attack on him except for a few scars in a strange pattern on his shoulder.

He had then taken care to avoid Potter and his self righteous little groupies for the rest of the week at least during the day but had had a problem at night; for some reason every time he had drifted into snoozy land his control over his power to dream walk had slipped and he had found himself in Potter's dreams.

It was driving him mad and he was ready to just go up to the boy wonder and scream in his face. "Why won't you go away!" in sheer frustration.

What ever had happened that night he was trying to skilfully avoid thinking about and hopefully nothing more was going to happen. Maybe if he never mentioned it, nothing would happen. Yeah, and he was Harry Potter's greatest fan.

Luckily it was Saturday with no classes and no Potter. He could sleep: not in his own comfortable warm bed, true but he was going to get some snooze; behind the Slytherin quidditch stands where no one would bother him.

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Harry hoped Hermione was going to come up with a good explanation for the past week. She deserved mega-sized thanks for her help. He had tried to catch Malfoy by himself and talk to him about what happened. He had been waiting for a furious Snape to appear and drag him off because of him attacking the Slytherine, but nothing happened.

After Tuesday night he had been finding himself shifting into that blue space he had been in when the whip had appeared in his hand and Draco had attacked him.

It was freaking him out because each time he heard those sounds and they were getting louder and his fangs were popping out. All he needed was some hysterical first year to spot them and he was going to have a another Chamber of Secrets on his hands.

It had been happening during class and when he was at his meals. When he had sneaked back to his room the whip had shrunk down into his hand. He had found it comforting for some reason, and had found himself carrying it around in his pockets under his school robe. Each time he slid into the blue space, he found it in his hand.

Luckily though his dreams had been more normal, he had not gone back to the mist world. It had all been perfectly normal; if he told himself that often enough he would begin to believe it.

It was Saturday and for the first time in months he was going to get the chance to fly. Ron and a whole lot of others had organised a quidditch game. It was just what he needed to relax.

The sky was cold and clear when they started gathering on the pitch to begin the game. It was a crisp morning and everyone was wearing an extra jumper but they would warm up as soon as the game began.

Off in the distance Hagrid was feeding one of his new pets in the school's animal pens. The rest of the school was still sleeping in and only a few students were wandering the school grounds. Harry watched his fellow Gryffindors and others wander out onto the pitch. It was just what he needed to relax after another screwed up week where 'Potter's luck' was aptly demonstrated.

He stroked the leather handle in his pocket while Ron split the teams and everyone got into place to start. Ginny was going to act as referee for the match and released the snitch and bludgers to start.

Harry felt the wind blow under his glasses and into his face cutting into his eyes making them water as he made a fast circuit of the playing field. The fresh smell of cut grass and the lake swept into his nose and he smiled. It was great to get away from everyone and only have one thing to worry about, now where was that blasted snitch. Scanning the ground and air around him Harry slid into a rise and twisted in the air to survey the arena. Seeing Hagrid out of the corner of his eye and Colin who was acting as the other team's seeker at the other end of the pitch and completely missing the dark cloud approaching from over the forbidden forest.

Harry perched on his broom high above the pitch and cleaned his glasses on his shirt. The sun was above the horizon and the game was in full swing. "Thump . . .Thump . . .Thump" It was the same noise he had been hearing, lately in his head starting again in the middle of a game. Well he should have known; he was surprised he even got up into the air to play, without something to screw it up.

Sliding on his glasses he swung around the playing field and ignored the sounds in his mind. In the distance a noise like seagulls at the seaside but a hundred time louder, faintly drifted into the school grounds. Below the forests edge Hagrid stopped feeding his new pets. He threw a startled look at the approaching cloud and begun running to the students playing on the school pitch.

Firmly ignoring any noise, Harry followed the golden glint of the snitch he had spotted a minute ago. This is what he lived for, the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of the capture. Focused on the golden prize he missed his team mates' fast paced game slow down and stop, as they heard the riotous noise of the approaching cloud. And Hagrid's distant shouts of warning.

Harry almost completely missed Ron's yells for his attention. Almost, when a bludger missed his head by a meter he slammed to a stop and turned to snarl at his friend who was only meters away. And saw the look on Ron's face, reminding him of how he had looked at eleven when he had first seen Fluffy. The beating noise inside of his head thundered through his mind. "Oh no." he muttered under his breath.

"Harry behind you!"

Closing his eyes Harry grimaced and rotated his broom. He opened them again, to see a vast black cloud emerge from out of the forbidden forest and head straight for the quidditch pitch, the cloud's high pitched screeches, ear piercing. As he sat in mid air the boy-that-wondered-why-he-bothered-to-get-up-in-the-morning saw, as they got nearer that the cloud was made up of hundreds upon hundreds of birds.

Their bodies were a gun metal grey, comparable in size to Fawkes. The feathers on their wings glistened under the morning sunlight and their calls made the skin on the back of his neck crawl.

"Hey Ron, How much of a chance do you think we have that they're nice and just want to be our friends?" Ron shook his head,

"Not bloody likely." Below them Hagrid had reached the field and they could here him telling them to land.

Yelling at the top of his voice Ron called the other Quidditch players.

"Right time to go inside every one get their arses into gear and get out of the air." While they had been talking, the birds had flown closer and were within fifty meters of the pitch. Harry saw Colin staring at the birds with his camera out, lost in his own world.

"Ron you get everyone inside I'll drag Colin in." Saying this Harry speed across the pitch to the oblivious seeker.

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Down below, Draco had been quietly sleeping. He had quickly drifted off and was happily dead to the world. So when he was woken by the ear piercing shrieks of the Stymphalian's, for that is what hey were; he was not happy, to say the least. Grumbling under his breath he cursed Potter.

"I just know it's his fault; first sleep I get in a week, of course it's going to be his fault."

Scrambling to his feet he walked out onto the Quidditch pitch and ground to a halt as he saw the cloud of birds enter the field as Harry 'bloody hero' Potter flew towards them.

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"Colin, Colin!" Harry screamed at the boy who was still taking pictures. "Colin, listen to me you little bastard!" This got the Gryffindor's attention.

"Oh Harry isn't this great, those birds look so cool! I just had to get a picture." Snatching the camera out of his hands Harry pointed towards the last of the teams landing and running towards the changing rooms.

"Forget about your bloody camera for once, head towards the changing rooms I'm right behind you." Colin speed off and as such missed the first hail of silver feather showered towards the-boy-that-lived.

Spinning in the air towards the changing rooms. Harry felt a breath of cold slid along his check. The birds were only twenty meters away he needed to get undercover. Something wet touched his lips; he didn't think it had started raining his tongue touched his lips to find blood, and finally his check started to sting. 'What the hell?'

He saw silver flashes fly around him and felt a stinging breeze cut through the material of his trousers just below his left knee and quickly felt his leg flare into pain. Grasping his broom tightly Harry ignored the pain, and headed straight for cover. In his mind he could feel the noise in his head thrum through his body echoing every heartbeat, louder than the screams of the birds.

Something hit his broomstick just above his right hand, and remained stuck in the wood glancing down he saw a feather made of metal caught half way into the wood of the broom stick. He felt another blow to his left leg this time below his knee. Gritting his teeth he swore and urged the broomstick on to faster speeds.

Blood dripped freely down his face and onto the collar of his baggy sweatshirt. He couldn't see it but he bet that the wounds on his legs were bleeding profusely as well. Blue lights began to tinge the edges of his vision. Looking below him he saw Malfoy standing, staring up at his mad flight gaping.

The birds behind him also saw the blonde Slytherin and some broke of from their chase of Harry to fly towards the other teen. As Harry felt blood drip of his chin his head felt faint and the noises in his mind flooded his thoughts, blue lights flashed under his eyes and the last thing Harry saw was Malfoy's face as he lost his grip on his broomstick and began to fall.

Authors Note

Hopefully this explains some things about what is happening. Next chapter things should heat up and we can see Harry use his whip.

Thankyou heaps for reviewing.

JuMiku - I can't tell you that it would ruin the suspense. Thanks for the review.

Rachie - I like William too, I have no idea what I am going to do with him. Thanks for reviewing.

Inakia - I love New Zealand but I am fighting for internet and computer time as it is I don't know when I will get on next.

KrisXD - thankyou

Catylina - I am glad you like the species

pheonixelemental - Don't hurt the plot bunny's

I don't know when I'll have internet next so enjoy and I will try my hardest to get back on.

Please Review and tell me what you think


	14. Harry Potter is Fates Bitch

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Fourteen_

**Harry Potter is Fates Bitch**

Disclaimer: I have disclaimed so much I fear soon I will not own anything.

Authors Note

Yes, I am still writing and alive and now have solid internet time. Yah! For me!

I am so close to 100 hundred reviews I have decided that two lucky people are going to have the chance to be inserted into an upcoming chapter. The 100th and 107th reviewers will have their screenname inserted somewhere in the next chapter. _Why? Because I can_.

And remember for updates and information about my other stories check out my Yahoo group.

In retrospect, Victor was always a little unclear about those next few minutes. That's the way it goes. The moments that change your life are the ones that happen suddenly, like the one where you die. -- (Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures)

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There are some mornings when you are just about to wake up; you're warm and safe in bed and you feel like curling up into a ball and sleeping for a thousand years. This was not how Harry felt when he pried his eyes open as he hurtled towards the ground.

On a scale of one to ten, this would be for Harry the fifth worst waking he had ever experienced; there had been worse - like the time Dudley had decided to see if putting someone's hand in a bowl of warm water when they are asleep really did make them wet them selves and invited all his little friends around to view the experience Or when he woke to get a close up view of Lockhart's nostril hair in second year. Blue fire made his vision lose focus and blur what he hoped would not be the ground rushing up to him.

"I'mgoingtodie,I'mgoingtodie I'mgoingtodie,I'mgoingtodie" Flashed through the tiny part of Harry's mind not smothered by a primordial hate for what was attacking him. The pounding beat that had echoed through his ears felt like it was making his skull vibrate. As the ground grew nearer and nearer he scrambled at the air desperately and hoped in the next five seconds he could learn how to fly. So Potter's luck came into play.

As the air ripped through his hair, he breathed in short gasps as he could feel something happening to his body that he had no control over. As a powerful force was clenching the muscles of his back and he screamed partly in terror as well as pain. Bringing his arms in front of his face he yelled. 'I'mgoingtodie,I'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodie,I'mgoingtodie,' To be stopped as he slammed face first into the grass of the Quidditch pitch and blacked out again in fear and pain. Unaware of the blue flame that had settled onto his skin.

Draco, who had been watching the slow fall of Harry was reminded of the many times he had seen him fall in the past during Quidditch matches and had hoped the bloody Gryffindor would break his neck. But incredibly, strangely, he didn't this time. Which worried him immensely, much more than the sight of several dozen blood thirsty flying birds demanded.

Running out from behind the Quidditch stands he gave up any hope he had for catching a nap and rushed towards where he knew Harry was going to hit the ground. Only to stumble to a stop and nearly fall to his knees as he was ten meters from the future crash site Harry was covered in a bright blue flame, and from his back a pair of wings, immense in span and as dark as a navy night, cut through the air with a crack.

However even spread out they were not enough to stop the boy-that-lived-to-be-a-in-pain as they slowed him a little, but he still landed face first into the lawn with a thud.

Draco held back a laugh and wished he had a camera as the wings arched around the unconscious gryffindor like a collapsed tent. He hadn't seen something this funny in months.

While this was happening the birds had flown much closer and were circling the pitch, a slow but steady rain of their deadly feathers were falling towards the unconscious Potter and a smiling Malfoy.

The Gryffindor quidditch players were being held inside the changing sheds by a adamant Hagrid who had identified the flying meat mincers as the Stymphalians.

Draco stopped laughing as a silver feather cut through the air and sliced a shallow cut along the back of his right hand. Imagine a paper cut then pour lemon on it, that was what the razor sharp fletchings of the feather had left Draco. Cursing under his breath he turned to run back to the stands and under cover but the birds had begun to dive low and he could see them skim the ground in front of the stands.

'Bloody boy-that-lived, couldn't save himself from a cold." Draco muttered under his breath as he was forced to turn back to the centre of the pitch where Harry had crashed. His wings

sticking up in a huddled mess. Ducking his head Draco pelted across the pitch towards Harry, who was beginning to stir.

Harry woke, his face felt like he had walked into Vernon's fist again. In fact he could feel the blood bubbling through his nose painfully as he tried to breathe. Without opening his eyes he tried to breathe through his mouth and gasped at the pain in his face. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed this would all go away and he would wake up back in bed. Nah, it hadn't worked wherever he had faced Voldemort so he doubted it would work now. All he could see when he opened his eyes was darkness and blood. His nose had splattered blood over the ground. Aching he reached to push his arms underneath him and lever himself up but was stopped as his back sent splinters of pain through to his very bones.

'Merlin's hairy Scrotum, that hurts!"

Harry cursed and arched back blinking at the tears forming in his eyes. It was then he noticed the

darkness was not from his eye but because bloody great wings blocked the light and he nearly blacked out for the third time in as many minutes.

Draco watched the birds formed into a tighter and tighter circle over the stirring Gryffindor. Acting before he could think. Pulling his wand out from his pocket Draco cast the first spell he could

think of. 'Fumotueor' the spell cast a shadowy fog over the pitch, obscuring the grounds and hiding

the boy-that-lived from the circling vultures. It wasn't the best of spells but then Draco was not known for thinking quickly under pressure. A grey mist poured from his wand like a thousand chronic smokers. Hiding from view all that stood on the pitch. Draco realised the problem with his plan when, still running, he stumbled over Harry's abandoned broom, falling to his knees. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face which would have been helpful and would have stopped him from smacking himself in the eye while he was searching for the broom on the ground.

Harry swept his hand in front of his eyes and pushed himself onto his knees. Catching himself several times on the longer feathers arching from his back. He had wings, not just a pretty tattoo, actually bloody great useless wings. Wondering if there was a god and if so, would it be possible to bitch slap the entity. Harry was distracted from his internal rant by the flash of pain as a silver feather parted his hair and he saw it arc into the soft ground in front of his eyes. Blood began to drip down his head and into his eyes. As quickly as he could Harry tried to stand up, and turn to face the flying menace above. Only to stop as a grey mist surrounded him. 'Could his day get any better?'

Pulling himself to his feet he nearly fell over backwards with the weight of his new appendages, they must weight a good thirty kilos and moved his centre of balance to hell. Looking up in the sky he muttered to anyone that was listening "It was a rhetorical question."

Crouching over Harry moaned as his nose began to bleed again and wondered if he could just crawl off and no one would notice. Only to curse out loud when someone stood on his new wings.

Draco with Harry's broom under one arm slowly moved forward, towards where Harry had been before he cast his stupid spell. Cursing himself, the only thing he could be happy with was at least no one could see him make an arse out of himself.

From above his head he could hear the caws of the birds change in tone from intent to confusion as they lost the sight of the one they had been hunting. Well at least he had got one thing right. Now what they needed was a really big cat and they could get rid of the flying rats.

Stumbling forward he made his way slowly across the pitch and kept an arm out in front; unfortunately the hand missed Harry who was hunched over and Draco stopped when he put his leather boot down on the soft flight feathers of one of Harry's new wings. And fell over.

Harry jerked his wing out form under Draco, who fell backwards onto his arse and cursed at the sharp pain in his rump.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry cursed, his voice muffled by his broken nose.

"I don't know... going for a nice morning jog. What do you think?" Draco scrambled to his feet and was just able, after staring, to make out the faint outline of a crouching Harry, his wings arching

behind his back like a fallen angel.

"What's with the new fashion accessories, Potter?"

Harry grimaced and wondered: if he killed Draco could he blame it on the birds? "Do you know what just happened? The birds, the mist?"

Draco leant on the broomstick and peered up at the noise of the confused birds. "I am glad that you are willing to acknowledge my greater depth of knowledge in all matters. And the birds I recognise; they are Stymphalians,My father has - well I guess I now own - their breeding grounds in the Peloponnese. They are very nasty and deadly and Father would threaten to throw me into their nests if I misbehaved. The only thing they are afraid of is fire. The mist, well, I think I saw the Weasel cast a spell, it's probably his fault."

Harry stood slowly and gently felt his nose. The sounds of the birds was getting louder and clearer. He peered into the mist and could now see the outline of Draco, his pale hair shining in the fading mist. Of all the life threatening situations in all the world he had to walk into this one.

"We must stop running into one another like this. Really we must. Do you think a 'ignitus' would send them away?"

Draco laughed under his breath. "No, you would need a bonfire and a dragon to get these flying razor blades out of the air."

"So do you have any idea how we can get them to bugger off?"

"How about you run about waving your arms, get their attention while they're attacking you, I'll run back to the changing sheds, how about that?"

During the boys little argument, the covering mist had been growing thinner and thinner. Until Harry could see ten meters in front of him. Soon the birds were going to see the students. Taking a deep breath Harry tried to hold onto his temper and grit his teeth.

"If you don't have any ideas then shut up." The pain which he had been ignoring for the last few minutes settled on his skin in a wave and he clenched his teeth. His little fangs pressed hard against his bottom lip. He could feel his pulse thumping through his head and closed his eyes. The blue light was beginning to grow before his vision again.

A random feather arched through the air and caught Harry across his right shoulder cutting through his thin T-shirt. Another cut to add to the others it missed the wings and Harry clutched his arm in pain.

"That is it!" Harry screamed up at the sky standing up he drew his wand and screamed. 'Ignitus!' A stream of flame erupted into the air and the sound of startled seagulls with the smell of burning

feathers and cooked chicken filled the air.

"Bright move Potter, now they know where we are."

Draco settled the broom into the air and perched upon it. "I'm getting out of here."

Harry scowled as he could see the movements in the mist of the birds getting closer and closer to the ground and closer to seeing the boys. "I have had it." Draco shook his head and sent the broom into the air ready to move off only to stop as another random feather passed through the air and caught the Slytherin across his throat. "Oh crap." Draco felt the blood drip down his chest and as he began

to wonder why it was getting so dark he fainted.

Harry watched the figure of Draco fall the short drop from his hovering broom and something inside him he didn't want to think about grew angry. The blue light that had once again appeared in his vision ate away his sight, until it was all he had left. A cold icy voice spoke through his mind and he followed its' commands.

Pulling from his pocket the miniature whip he had kept there since his little adventure on Tuesday night, he flicked it out and as the whip moved through the air in a lazy arch it grew until it reached its full length.

The silver medusa's decorating the handle began to move in agitation at the smell of Harry's blood. Spreading his new appendages out, he stumbled under the weight and shook them out. The voice did something, the wings shuddered, in a flash of silver fire they were gone, and all that remained was the tattoo. He just couldn't do anything with them, yet.

Striding over to the still hovering broomstick he grasped it out of the air and sat astride, speeding into the air, his whip coiled in his right hand. Slowly he rose through the air, gently he flicked the whip out and hunched forward over the broom; unseen by Harry began to glow in red and blue flame. And slowly the end began to splinter as though it were a fraying rope until the end had formed thirteen tails and it sparkled in the fading mist.

Suddenly, a bird appeared in front of him, gun metal silver, it flashed in front of his eyes and passed beyond his sight. Bringing his arm back he watched the eddying mist and the flashes of moving silver as the birds spotted their prey. Harry sensed the attention of the flock focus upon him and he grinned. Bringing his arm back he waited in the air until he saw the birds gather above him until they were about to dive and brought his arm forward Flinging the whip before him in a rain of red sparks. The flaming tails like shooting stars arched through the air and caught five avian killers.

Striking them their metal feathers spat like water hitting hot oil, they seemed to melt. The birds fell from the sky. With this, the Stymphalians knew Harry was near. Grinning he dove through the air avoiding the attacks and flicking the flaming whip before him, the birds smoked and fell from the sky around him.

Until the air was clear and he could nearly see the Quidditch pitch was clear of mist and psychotic birds. Sighing he felt the whip shrink and he laughed. That hadn't been so hard. Which is the point in which a Stymphalian he had missed, dived down upon the false victory of Harry and struck its razor sharp claws into Harry's scalp through to the bone.

Screaming he clutched the bird and raised a fist smashing down on the crying bird which was flapping its metal wings. Harry's ripped the bird away and squeezed down upon its chest until it stopped moving.

During this the knife edged wings had been cutting into Harry's hands and face and Harry moaned at the pain. The blue fire fled his sight and the full weight of his physical injuries hit him like a brick wall. He would never play the piano again laughing weakly at his own joke he drew in a stumbling breath he shuddered and felt every cut and bruise. The blood drained from his face in agony and for the third time that day Harry fainted.

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Standing in one of Hogwarts towers, Mr Scuta stared down at the Quidditch pitch and the metal birds littering the field. Their bodies surrounding the crumpled forms of the two boys. That had to be a Kodak moment, when Harry Potter landed face first into the ground with his wings just opened. Well that was easy; he had found the Erinyes. Nott owed him a beer.

He swore there was no way Potter could be the Boy-who-live AND an Erinyes. No one person could be that unlucky. But William knew that yes, someone could be that unlucky. This was Harry Potter, if a tree fell in the forest he would be the only person standing underneath it trying to save an injured squirrel.

Scuta watched the mists finally clear and the Quidditch players storm the field. If he hadn't been working, this would have been the perfect moment for some rotten eggs. Now came the hard part, getting the boy out of Hogwarts and into Voldemort's little love nest.

Authors Note

As always a huge thanks goes out to my wonderful beta's Licelli and Ashley who make sure that it is readable.

Thanks

**Pheonixelemental **- Please leave the plot bunnies alone what did they ever do to you, on the other hand all fluffy cute things are inherently evil. It's true.

**Tora, elektra107, Your Reflection, Haunt of Twilight** -thanks

**Rachy** - He did use the whip, next week he may stay conscious through a whole chapter.

**KrisXD **- your review made me laugh I hope you are pleased with the new chapter.

**Inakia, Destiny Entwines** - Well I guess you were right, but am I going to let him actually use them. I have a picture of him in my mind running along the ground with the wings out, like the little engine that could saying 'I think I can, I think I can.'

**Heavensenthellbroken** - this happened to harry.

Please review and tell me what you think, reviews fuel inspiration, inspiration leads to writing.


	15. We Really Have to Stop Meeting Like This

The Kindly Ones

Chapter 15

**We Really Should Stop Meeting Like This.**

Disclaimer: See Chapters 1 through 14.

- "There have been...accidents."

- "What kind of accidents?"

- "The kind of accidents you prefer to call...accidents."

-- (Terry Pratchett, Maskerade)

Draco was dreaming that is to say, he was watching someone else dream. Not in some creepy, stalker, 'I-am-peering-through-your-window-and-know-where-you-sleep way' this was just something that happened whenever he couldn't control himself; it was a problem with being a Nyx.

In fact, as a small child he had had absolutely no control over his powers and could often become lost in his parents' dreams. Which might explain some of the problems of the Malfoy house; at the age of five no one wants to learn certain things about one's parents. As he grew older, he had come to view his abilities, which were a gift for being his Mother's son, as more of a joke then an honor.

What teenage boy would not take advantage of the ability to see what his fellow class mates and teachers dreamed about? And if he happened to use this information in his daily life, who would sue him? In fact Draco had a very nice racket going with several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, using privileged information he had acquired through the years.

He did not try and hit up the Slytherins with his inside information, because he had to live with them, and no matter what, if someone in his own house was out to get him he couldn't be on his guard all the time! And he kept away from the Gryffindors, who in a misguided sense of justice would most probably turn him in. A boy just trying to make an honest profit.

So when he found himself watching someone's dream, he would create a chair out of the dream ether and sit back to watch. As he was doing right now.

The last thing he remembered was watching that great cock-up Harry Potter grow wings. Maybe he had really just fallen asleep behind the stadium and dreamt all the mess. Nah! he wasn't lucky like that. The landscape was of a busy muggle town. Close to the dreamer, the figures were clear but further away they became moving blobs until that faded into the mist, until the dreamer focused on them again.

Draco found himself perched outside a department store. Through a window he could see the dreamer wandering around the shelves lost and confused. Draco was also confused as the dreamer was a very small child and as far as he knew, Hogwarts didn't take in rugrats. Peering closer he watched as quickly the kid got more worried and lost as the shelves grew taller and taller until all that the dream contained were towering shop shelves; and Draco was looking directly down on a scared little boy that looked like Harry Potter, and was in fact Harry Potter.

This was, unbeknownst to Draco, one of Harry's recurring nightmares from when he had been a small child. He was in a shop where he had been looking at a display of Transformers, his favourite toy as a child, and had gotten lost for what felt, to a four year old Harry, like hours; forgotten by a negligent Petunia. Until a helpful shop assistant had found him and sent his description over the store's loud speaker system and Petunia had been forced to collect him while he was still clutching the transformer he had really wanted.

For weeks afterwards Harry had, had nightmares over the incident and in rare moments it still raised it's ugly head. Draco watched as a small Harry stumbled and fell. Getting up slowly until he was just standing at the bottom of a tall shelf of toys.

'Ohhh My Little Pony', Draco laughed to himself as he perched on the edge of a shelf. While he truly didn't enjoy the pain of others, . . . this was Harry Potter.

Suddenly the store's shelves which had come to fill the dream, disappeared in a swirl of fading colours, and a tiny Harry sat, his head buried in his knees while surrounding him and a startled Draco was a winding, binding world of blue.

Colours ranging from the lightest summer sky to a deep ocean blue swirled around Harry now his correct age, in a maelstrom. The dreaming boy did not notice, caught in both his childhood fear of being left behind and something else. Draco watched as the colours in a swirling show, outlined the span of Harry's wings in lighting blue traces.

To him it sounded as though the dream-world was a giant metal drum and someone was tap-dancing on it. Draco felt the winds pass through him in sharp cold thrills until he could feel the breath of the blue pass through his bones. Taking a deep breath he didn't need to take, he felt the strange lights move around him. While sort of exciting he did not like where this seemed to be going. If Harry was about to go all 'hidden powers' on him he was getting the hell out of this dream.

Twisting his thoughts and reaching forward with his power as he had been taught by Narcissa many years ago, Draco made to leave the dream, and found that he couldn't.

"Bugger."

Below his view he could see the blue winds draw tighter and tighter around Potter seeming almost to want to comfort him, if only he would noticed. Draco attempted to leave the dream several times only to realise he was trapped. Without thinking he was standing in front of the crying Harry, the winds not hindering him in anyway.

"Potter. Potter. Wake up." The teen continued to cry.

"Grow up you little weed." Draco really wasn't the nurturing type.

Reaching forward Draco grabbed the dreaming Harry's shoulders to shake him, and screamed. It felt as thought lighting was travelling through his body. Passing from his hands to his feet. He screamed out into the dream.

From the familiar nightmare Harry had been drawn into a strange new scene as a cold voice was cutting through his thoughts, repeating the phrase.

_**'Justice, Honor, Vengeance, Revenge, Punishment**.'_

In a bone chilling voice. The words echoing strangely through his mind as Harry, who had been caught in a spiral of self-hate and loneliness that can only be reached in a dream, suddenly felt warmth flow over his mind, a insubstantial voice speaking under the firstwhispered through his confusing anger.

_'You are not 'nothing', someone does care.'_ It funneled down to one that though.

_'You are not alone.'_

Harry's mind stopped cycling through its destructive thoughts and he looked up into Draco's screaming face. Draco gasped in pain as the lightning stopped and he could feel his body once again. Draco, brought his hands forward to strangle the-boy-that-lived-be-a-pain-in-his-arse, only to find himself caught in the Gryffindors eyes.

"Right now's the part where you sneer and call me a worthless piece of filth." Harry snorted and scowled up at Draco.

Stumped for a moment Draco stopped his lunge and stared at the tear marks on Harry's face. And said the first thing that came to mind.

"So you dream about me then."

"Ha, Ha very funny, just get on with the insults so I can wake up." Draco frowned and chewed on his bottom lip, a habit his mother would certainly frown upon.

"So you have a lot of nightmares, Potter?"

"What are you, my Mother? Oh, that's right . . .she's dead. How sad .Too Bad." Whenever Draco had walked through Harry's dreams previously, he had never encountered any of his nightmares, just the hormonal teen dreams you find in all teenage boys minds. . Except for that weird dream with all the blood, but he had been trying to forget about that. Maybe he would someday.

Suddenly he felt a strange emotion; one he would never have thought he would ever feel for Harry Potter. Pity and maybe a trace of regret.

"Don't worry Potter, this is just dream you'll wake up soon."

"That's just great, I get to wake up to the weird arse world where a mad man wants to kill me, my parents are dead, and I have a pair of giant freaking wings." The last five words were screamed into Draco's face.

"While I admit everyone needs some 'pity me' time now and then. Try and grow up Potter. It's not the end of the world."

Harry was beating the dream wings twisting the blue winds in a fury.

"It may as well be. I don't think I am ever going to see happily ever after. Isn't that what they say in stories?The good guy wins and it's happily ever after, riding off into the sunset on a white horse."

"I didn't know you knew how to ride." Draco tried to stop Harry's rant in mid flow.

"I can't."

"So all you need to do to win the war is learn how to ride a horse?"

Harry's thoughts were derailed for a moment with Draco's strange question.

"Ahh no, no I don't think it works like that."

"Who cares? Get over your self Harry Potter. The world does not begin and end with you. You don't know everything and you are not always right." Draco felt a weight lift off his back. He had been wanting to say that for years.

"I don't think I am always right."

"Well then why do you always act like you are?"

"I don't."

"Think about all the mistakes you have made in the past, just because you thought you were right. Whatever you don't have to listen to me. Just grow up. No matter what there is always tomorrow. The sun will rise, birds will sing and your actions in a hundred years time won't matter." The Blue mists had faded until all that sat in an expanse of black were the figures of the dreaming Harry and the dream walking Draco.

"Do you really believe that?" Harry watched Draco's face as he smiled

"Yeah, you have to don't you? If you worried over the small things all the time, what else can you do?" Normally Harry didn't have nightmares, except for the special broadcasts from channel Voldemort he received every so often, especially when there was some plot afoot by one of his little evil minions.

So when he had an actual nightmare - it tended to happen when he was knocked unconscious - and in the hospital ward, it made him question the mess his life was; it hit him hard. Strangely, Draco's words, insulting as they had been, were making him think.

When he was awake and with his friends he could push the disbelief and fear away, but in his own mind he let the worry and doubt eat away at his confidence. Advice was the last thing he ever expected from Draco Malfoy, and especially from a figure of the Slytherine, created by his own mind.

"You know, I hate to say this, but since it's not really you . . . Thanks." Draco was stunned at the smile that graced Harry's face; it lit up the Erinyes eye's from within and made Draco smile right back.

"Oh don't worry about it. I have been meaning to ask; what's with the wings?"

Harry who was now smiling, laughed at the inquiring look on Draco's face.

"Stupid family tree. Some one should have taken an axe to it." Draco watched the dream world fill with light and warmth as Harry's mind drew away from the dark world. it had been sinking into.

"You should smile more often." Harry commented to the Slytherine who had been thinking about how often he had wanted to take an axe to his own family tree. Especially the times after he had accidentally found himself caught in McGonagall's strange dreams involving cat nip and a young Sirius Black which he recognized from some old family photos he had found.

"So there is something in your family tree that popped up this year?"

"Well it certainly isn't male pattern baldness."

"The wings look pretty. . . "Draco searched for the word .'Interesting."

"Only if I knew how to use them."

"You looked hilarious smashing into the pitch today."

"Thanks heaps, how do you like fainting, trying to make a habit of it."

"Hey that other time was because you were strangling me and . . . . wait a moment you bit me. What's with that?" Draco stared at Harry who was looking down at his shoes.

"I don't know but I kind of liked it," Harry laughed softly. 'I am so glad this is a dream, I don't know what I would do if Draco actually knew that.' Draco smirked and laughed.

"Ahh yeah."

They were having a converstion that hadn't degenerated into mindless screaming. Admittedly Harry thought this was all a dream and wasn't really happening, but Draco had never thought this would ever happen.

With that the dream world began to fade and Draco watched Harry wake up, knowing that he would himself wake as the Gryffindor's dream ended.

Harry could feel every scratch bruise and cut from his inopportune battle with the flying ginzu knives. Opening his eyes, he smiled softly as he remembered his dream. His dream Draco had seemed nice, pity the real one was such a pillock.

The wall above him with its stained plaster in the shape of a lame duck and a rusted water pipe told him he was in the Hospital ward. Namely, the sixth bed down on the left from the entrance. He had spent a lot of time in the Hospital ward. Down the far end he could hear what had woken him as Madam Pomphrey went about her business.

Sighing, he wondered what the hell was going on now. Giant flocks of homicidal birds don't just turn up out of nowhere; someone must be planning this. He would give anyone three guesses, and the first two didn't count. His new powers and all the strange crud that had been happening to him since the start of school, all could probably be chased back to one source.

Stretching out slowly Harry moved his hand from out under the hospital sheet and jumped in surprise, yelping in pain at the sudden movement. Something crashed to the ground falling from underneath his bed covers

Carefully peering over the side of his bed he saw a brightly coloured plastic transformer. The same he had grasped, a 'GrayGranian' model, when he had been lost.

"It was a dream." Harry told himself worriedly.

In a bed right next door Draco himself woke. Thinking about the new information he had on Harry Potter, he rolled over and stopped, surprised to find himself lying on a hard lump. He pulled it out and stared in disbelief: it was a 'My Little Pony'.

. "That shouldn't have happened." For though Draco could walk through dreams he could not be affected by the dreams or bring anything from the dream world to this. "What is mother going to say?" Was the only thing he could say when he realised what had happened.

hpdmhpdmhpdmhpdmhpdm hpdmhpdmhpdmhpdmhpdm hpdmhpdmhpdmhpdmhpdm

Not that far away, a presence gently peeled the skin away from around its fingernails, though they really were more talons than normal human fingernails. It was something that it had done a million times before and probably, if it had nothing better to do, would do again. It was, the only way it could feel, self-punishment. Because it had had hope, as fragile as it had been, that it would be free.

It had tasted an Erinyes so close but yet so far. In it's dreams of freedom, a feeling it had thought destroyed millennia ago rose its ugly head: Hope.

There was a reason it had been argued whether it was a gift or a curse when Pandora opened her box. Three times it had felt the Erinyes draw near then pull away as though something were protecting it. So now it was going to be patient again, as it had been for time without counting, and wait. Because, as they say, all things come to those who wait.

Each flake of bloody skin as it drifted to the ground, faded and disappeared into the darkness before touching the stone floor, as if it had never existed.

Authors Note

Thankyou

Licelli, Ashley, andEmory for beta'ing this chapter. Without your help well they know how bad it would be.

Thankyou so much for reviewing and pushing me over 100, GrayGranian was the 100th reviewer. But as I post this FF.N is playing up and I can not reach my stats to thank everyone.

For updates and other information check out my yahoo group. Just remove the spaces.

Http/ groups. Com. Yahoo/ group/ phorcys fanfiction

Authors Note 1.2

I have been having problems with FF.N and finally after over a week I am able to post this chapter. Please enjoy.

Please review the plot bunnies love them


	16. The Definition of Irony

_The Kindly Ones_

_Chapter Sixteen_

**The Definition of Irony**

Disclaimer: ect, ect, ect . . .

It wasn't blood in general he couldn't stand the sight of, it was just his blood in particular that was so upsetting.

-- (Terry Pratchett, Sourcery)

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Back in the 1820's an enterprising Hufflepuff had sold 'paint by numbers' moving pictures to his classmates. The art professor of the time, a Mr. Oudry thought that all the amateur self portraits of his students were just 'smashing' and had collected all of them together, then they cleared an entire hall for their exhibition. Unfortunately the student who created them, had not paid enough attention in his charms class and the paint by numbers portraits had not turned out as advertised.

The personality of each pictures' subject, was rude, and angry. As soon as the paint had been dry, the paintings various artists had their greatest secrets told to the rest of the school. It was only after a particularly florid portrait of the headmaster had begun to regale the school, who had all attended the opening of the picture exhibition, with a tale of what the Headmaster had been doing over the summer holidays - where he had told everyone he was visiting a sick aunt - that they realised the full problem.

The student who had created the paint sets and sold them to the school could not show his face in class again, and years later he left the magical world. The last that was heard from him was that he was trading under the name Dorian Gray.

The hallway had been closed off, and shut up as the teachers had discovered they could not remove the paintings from their specially picked walls; but it didn't take long for the annoying painting to make their way around the school and stick their noses into everything. The teachers were able to get them to stay in their hallway but the other paintings made an effort to visit them often. They always had the best gossip; and when you're stuck on a wall for five hundred years, that can be the best thing in your existence. After a few years that hallway had become known as the Gallery of Gossip and students tended to stay the hell away from it.

**_hphphphphphphphphphp_**

If you looked underneath Snape's greasy, snarky, sneering exterior you wouldn't find a hidden heart of gold. If he had a heart of gold it had been pawned years ago with no regrets from its owner.

Snape was not going to befriend any cute orphan chimney sweeps and through a series of humorous misadventures discover his secret love for all mankind. and cute fluffy animals. Unless, that is, the cute fluffy animals came covered in a nice plum sauce.

At an early age Snape had realised he wasn't a nice person, had embraced the arse hole inside, and hadn't looked back since.

Torturing small children was for Snape just a side benefit of being a teacher at Hogwarts. Like all bullied children he had dreamed of demeaning and making the offspring of his tormentors wet themselves in terror. A small man who found pleasure in tormenting people who could not fight back.

Tonight he was walking the corridors of Hogwarts as he did every Thursday and Tuesday night searching for any child who may have snuck out of their common house. Wearing his usual black gown, the only change was a bulge under his right arm from a camera he had brought along to catch the look on any children's face he might catch unaware. At this very moment he was thinking about if he needed to put another freezing charm on all the stools in his potions classroom to make his students even more uncomfortable.

Coming in the opposite direction was a hurrying Harry Potter.

Harry had finally been released from his hospital bed. Hermione had dumped a pile of paper work on his lap before Tea and had told him 'You have two eyes and a heart beat you can read it yourself." Hermione had been quite annoyed with Harry for, once again ending up in the hospital ward. "I don't know, Harry, sometimes I think you must have a mystical bulls eye painted on your back." Before Harry could answer back with

"I'm sorry you're so inconvenienced by my being in the hospital next time I'll make sure I die so you don't have to visit." Hermione was out the door.

As soon as Harry woke up tomorrow, he'd have some 'me' time, a shower, maybe some more 'me' time, another shower, breakfast, then he would talk to Dumbledore, and off load this steaming pile of 'What the Fuck'; on his furry head.

After the Gryffindor girl had left in a huff, Ron, who had visited with her had explained to Harry that when she heard Harry had been attacked she had been 'sick' herself and had come down from the girls dormitory like a thunderstorm. Ron himself was happy to see that Harry was well and in one piece. "Was it Voldemort?" Ron asked after Hermione left.

"Probably." Harry didn't act fazed "What do you think it'll be this year?" Giants? Ents? Smurfs?" Ron saw the strain around Harry's eyes and joined in the joke.

"I heard the vampires have gone on strike, You-know-who wouldn't offer them life insurance." Harry smiled,

"The werewolves won't work during that time of the month."

"And the zombies' won't work with the ghouls."

"Old Voldy is probably worrying about getting good minions right now."

"I can see his ads in the Prophet now." Dark Lord likes long torturing sessions in dungeons, and Tom Clancy novels, looking for a soulless thug who will lick the souls of my boots on a cold winters night."

"Do they have personals in the Prophet?"

"I don't know but you could see it, couldn't you?" Ron looked at Harry for a moment. "Dark Lord seeks companionship. I suppose, but what manky idiot would deserve that?"

"I don't know… I can think of a few." When you say you wouldn't wish something on your worst enemy, it's hard to decide, when you have so many enemies. Both boys kept joking for a while until Ron had to leave for class. Laughter is always the best medicine. If you ignore drugs.

It was later that night and Harry had just been released from his Hospital bed, with madam Pomfrey giving him a very quick once over to make sure he wasn't still missing any limbs and with instructions to kindly rest in his own bed and not suffer any further assassination attempts, if he could possibly avoid it.

Making his way back to Gryffindor tower he wished someone had brought him a change of clothes; the scruffy dressing gown he had left at the hospital at some point, was not what he wanted everyone to see him in; Hermione's novel length notes under his arm. Maybe he could suggest that next time she did some research that he could get the cliff notes. But even he didn't want to see her face if he suggested that.

Now all he wanted to do was get back into his room pull back the curtains and have some 'me' time. So he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. In fact he was paying absolutely no attention to the world around him, or the world inside his head for that matter.

And it was only when the harsh clickng noises he had been hearing nearly constantly for the past week became loud enough to distract him from thoughts of 'me' time did he look at where he was walking, and curse himself for being an idiot. The Gossip Gallery was in front of him.

He had once stumbled into the hallway back in his second year; it had taken him two hours to escape their constant insults and embarrassing information. He didn't want to know anything about Professor McGonagall and Fluffy. Turning quickly on his heel he spun around to see a smirking Snape.

Now, Snape did find pleasure in many things in his life, he wasn't a complete misery guts. Seeing the look on a child face as they realise that not all the excuses in the world are going to save their sorry arses from a week's misery and detention was one of them. Being a teacher at Hogwarts for over a decade had left him with many small pleasures.

As Harry Potter turned to face him, outside curfew, far from his common room, and dressed in a ratty dressing gown, he almost burst out with joy, but sniggered instead.

"Potter, twice in one week. You're making this much too easy." Harry said nothing. "What no spluttering claims of your innocence."

Frowning Harry looked hard at the stones under his feet. "No one is here to help you. It's just you and I. Which you'll be seeing a lot of; after you meet me for a week's detention cleaning Longbottom's caustic bottomed cauldrons."

All Harry did was jerk his head up from his intense study of the ground and up to stare at Snape's stomach. "I'm sure I have some particularly gruesome examples of Longbottom's incompleteness stacked at the back of my classroom's cupboard."

Still no real response from Harry; usually by this time in his rant, the-boy-that-annoys would be spluttering incomprehensibly to explain his actions. Or coming up with some particularly stupid reasons for his whereabouts. "What Potter, no claims of innocence. I would be disappointed; if I cared."

Snape was almost skipping in anticipation of Harry's future discomfort; only to stop his next insult when Harry looked up and Snape saw the expression on his face.

Click . . .Click . . .Click . . .Snick. The cold snide tone of Snapes voice cut through the metaphysical noise like a hot wand through butter. The harsh metal sound stopped abruptly and, for the first time in what he realised had been hours, his head was his own. Swinging around he got ready to let rip with his usual reply to Snape's taunts. But with his first view of Snape the world changed.

Everything was crisp and clear, like at six in the morning after a winter's frost. The world around him was held in tight focus, he could pick out the tiny specks of gray lint caught in Snapes black robes; he could see the tiny crystals of quartz caught in the stone under their feet, glittering minutely in the light of the torches. The torches must have been reflecting off a stained window because the quartz was shining blue.

Staring fixedly at the ground, Harry couldn't look away from the world that was springing to life in front of his eyes. Dragging his face upwards he was amazed at the threads of Snapes robe, twisting all the thousands of strands. All that existed in his world were these details. Ever so slowly he brought his face up to Snape's smug grin, and his world exploded.

"Ssssssss . . ." Snape watched as Harry breathed out hissing, shaking his head. A look of intense loathing gracing his features. "So many, so many..." The look in Harry's eyes almost made Snape take a step back.

"Speak up, if you're going to make an excuse it better be a bloody entertaining one." From Snape's perspective it looked like some one had jerked Harry up by the scruff of his dressing gown and he stood taller and straighter. "Well, say something, boy?"

"You stink." This was quietly hissed by Harry and Snape could hardly hear it.

"Right, how does two weeks scrubbing cauldrons with a toothbrush sound." Harry continued to shake his head but his gaze never left Snapes face.

"Once lines are drawn, they must never be crossed."

The last three words, still hissed, were almost shouted. Snorting Snape just gestured grandly with one hand. "Speaking gibberish will get you no where."

"A pound of flesh and a gallon of blood. Your fees are high, Man. . . . So many." With that Harry stopped shaking his head and Snape finally got a good look at Harry's face. His pupils had shrunk to pin holes and his irises were so large Snape would swear they were glowing.

The teen's face was tight and fierce, his nostrils flared in rage. From nowhere a wind had begun to sweep down the hallway and Snape watched Harry's unruly hair curl in the wind. But Snape had made many people angry over his long career and Harry did not scare him, yet.

To Harry it was like, but not like he had been drawn into a pensive, the world dropped away around him. He was still aware of his body, in a detached manner but what was most important was the scene that was now playing out in front of him.

The world swam in a familiar manner until it stabalised and he could see two people facing each other. Again the world shuddered and he recognised them as Snape and Dumbledore. "I pledge that with my dying breath I shall always protect the Order and all that it holds dear. No one shall suffer under my wand. On this I give my oath." Dumbledore looked down at his bowed head and nodded.

"I accept your oath." He gave the customary answer "May your bones be crushed and you blood run dry if ever you break it."

With the last word, Harry's world was swept away from him and he faced another scene this time the world was cut away except for a lone Snape caught alone in an office; the glittering hoard of gadgets making this place easy to identify. Harry watched as Snape reached behind a frozen portrait of a long dead Headmistress. What ever he took from the hole shone with a golden light but was quickly hidden under Snapes robes.

At this Harry was once again swept away to a new scene, he felt like the ghost of Christmas Past A bright fire shone in the background, Snape stood back from it, clutching his wand to his chest. A loud crash and the fire surged up. Harry could now tell that it was a house that Snape was watching burn. The unmistakable smell of pain scented the air for Harry.

Another place Snape was bowing in front of a man, both were heavily wrapped in thick robes. "I pledge that with my dying breath I will always protect my Lord and all he holds. I will let no force stop me from carrying out your wishes. On this I give my oath." The other figure spoke Harry had realised his identity as soon as Snape had begun to speak.

"I accept your oath. May your bones be ground to a paste and your blood turned to acid in your veins if your break it." The memory, vision, whatever he was watching, of Snape kept changing.

"Voldemort will attack the village of Hedgemorton, on the 5th." Snape was telling this to a nodding Dumbledore who thanked the spy.

Harry was swept from scene to scene, watching Snape breaking his oaths, killing, spying and stealing. Finally, after what felt like hours, he dragged himself up out of the picture show. To see Snape, 'oath-breaker', standing before him.

The corridor was silent as Harry stared at Snape's face. "You have broken oath. Salt was shared and bread eaten. Your word was given, not once but twice. I name you oath breaker and as my duty is clear, your bones will be flayed from your flesh and fluid boiled from your veins." Harry knew that Snape was an oath-breaker and the words flew from his mouth without conscious thought, but he agreed with them.

It was just and right. Snape had sworn an oath in front of his elders, before the gods and had broken them. It was Harry's duty to be the god's vengeance here at this very moment. Light in the hallway began to dim, and the torches flames sunk low as Harry seemed to grow and his presence filled the corridor. Snape found he couldn't move his body

"You have been judged and found wanting; I submit my verdict to the gods." Harry seemed to be listening to a voice only he could hear.

Snape superstitiously flung a quiet sleeping spell at the possessed Potter. It was ignored.

"I serve their will, let it be done." From nowhere a whip appeared in Harry's left hand. The wind died down as soon as the whip appeared but Harry's hair continued to thrash in an unfelt wind.

Snape's jaw was gaping open but snapped shut as the whip cracked out at him and caught him across the face. "Potter!" Swearing Snape stared as all the things he kept telling people about Harry Potter being mad and listening to voices turned out to be true.

"Put that bloody thing down right now." Ignoring Snape's demand Harry swept his arms up into the air and looked towards the sky.

"I dedicate this sacrifice of one, who has broken the second law." The lights in the hallway died completely and a bright blue glow surrounded Harry's upraised face and whip, Snape would have fallen backwards if his legs hadn't have been stuck in place. A coursing blue fire ran along the black edge of the whip as Harry brought it down with a sickening crack across Snape's face.

"Fucking Balls." the exclamation was ripped from Snape's mouth when he felt the bright burning pain of the whip cut his face like acid. Blood quickly pooled in the cut and he smelt the fresh blood flow down his face. Harry stepped back away from his Potions teacher and gestured with the whip pointing at the wall on his right.

Snape suddenly found himself flung by invisible hands face first against the wood paneled wall.

"youh goeng to egget ist otter." Snape's meant to say "Your going to regret this Potter."

The invisible hands pushed him hard against the wall and his cries were silenced as Harry began to lay a pattern of cuts up and down his back. As the whip cut through his gown and lay deep welts on his back Snape struggled. Then with building strength the blows grew deeper. When all his efforts to rip himself from the magical grip failed Snape began to weep, the salty tears washing away the blood on his cheek.

'Punishment for all crimes must be carried out, to the utmost of all my abilities.' Harry could not fight the overwhelming force that was controlling him mind and body. It was not him, Harry Potter that was laying into Snape's back with a whip and the urge to strip the flesh from his bones. But it was him. The only sound in the corridor were the weak whimpers that rose from Snape's throat, with each blow.

With each blow Harry seemed to glow brighter, his hair moving quickly his arm feel in a heavy beat and his skin shone with a faint blue radiance. He watched and no expression graced his features except grim determination.

As he drew his arm back for another punishing blow Snape's head feel backwards and he slumped in the magical chains. This snapped something his Harry's possessed mind. The whip disappeared in mid-strike, the blue light vanished and Snape fell to the ground as the torches sprang to light.

Still Unconscious Snape fell with a thud to the ground, his head bouncing as it landed on the stones. His eye's glazed in bewilderment Harry stared at what he had done. "Oh Bugger."

**_hphphphphphphphphphp_**

Having been sent back to his dormitory before Harry Potter, Draco was scribbling another letter to his mum. If he didn't have an automatic correcting quill his bed would have been littered with scraps of paper. What was a simple letter was taking him several hours.

'Dear Mum, Have gone Mad. Please send chocolate. Love Draco.'

'Dear Mum, Harry Potter is Looking at me Funny, make him stop.'

'Dear Mum, What the hell is going on? Your Loving son Draco'

'Dear Mum, Why can't I stop thinking about the boy scout? Bad, Bad brain. . .'

'Dear Mum, I'm never eating chicken again'

'Dear Mum, I take that back, death to all avians'

'Dear Mum, Arrgggh . . .'

The last was not so much written as screamed as he threw his quill at his curtains. Madam Pomfrey sent him back to his dormitory for the rest for the night and to start fresh for the next day, on his word that he would stay away from all man eating birds of any sort, and Harry Potter. Exhausted by his poetic efforts, his room mates found him asleep early when they came up from their common room to go to bed. So there was no one around to see the blue feather appear on his cheek and glow through his bed's curtains then disappear.

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**Authors Note**

I'm still with us, and so is this story. Please don't hurt me.

With lots of words from my beta licelli, with out whom the ending of this chapter would be very different. The omake at the end of this note is in fact the original ending but I thought I worked hard on it and it deserves it's own place.

Please contact me with any questions.

OMAKE

"I dedicate this sacrifice of one, who has broken the second law." The lights in the hallway died completely and a bright blue glow surrounded Harry's upraised face and whip, Only to die as a fiery bolt of red slammed into Harry's stomach.

"Opphh" All of Harry's breath was forced out and he folded forwards to meet an upswinging bony fist. The world faded around his ears. The blue glow and his blood thirst fading along with his consciousness. If he could he would have heard Snape say

"Two Months detention with Filch, you little bastard." Someone stood above his head. "I always knew you were mad"


	17. Amnesia

**The Kindly Ones**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Amnesia**

Disclaimer: This disclaimer is as much of a legal defense, as tissue paper is going to put out a bushfire.

The man gave a shrug which indicated that, although the world did indeed have many problems, this was one of them that was not his.

_-- (Terry Pratchett, Soul Music)_

". . .pass the eggs Harry." The plate of fried eggs was already in his hand and halfway across the table before Harry awoke.

The plate slipped through his fingers as he realised that instead of standing in one of the many hallways webbing Hogwarts, contemplating a life of piracy to escape what ever Snape was going to do with him when he regain consciousness, he was sitting down in the great hall enjoying a - he looked down at his plate - breakfast of baked beans and bacon.

"Harry, you idiot." He looked back up at Hermione, who had been the one asking for the eggs. The forgotten platter had landed in a pot of porridge and had splattered egg yolks and oats across the table.

The porridge dripped in a rather fetching way from Hermione's nose.

"I . . .I . . I'm Sorry."

The last thing he remembered was standing in that hallway, standing over a bloody Snape and wondering if he could commit suicide before Snape woke up and made his world a small and painful one.

Mouth moving before he could think. "I'm dead. So very, very dead"

"You will be when I get through with you." Wiping her nose with a hand she flicked her fingers at Harry, he didn't even blink as the yolk splattered his glasses.

"He's going to kill me." This was muttered through lips that were turning white in terror. Luckily the rest of the table was enjoying the prospects of an incoming food fight to notice Harry's mumble.

"Harry, I'm going to kill you if you don't wipe that dead fish look off your face and talk to me." Ron who had been splattered by some of the porridge, but had not been distracted from finishing his own plateful swallowed and watched Hermione whose face was turning red.

"He's going to rip off my head and spit down the hole." Harry stared over Hermione's head at a future only he could see.

Standing up he paid no attention to the plates and cutlery he sent flying, crying out in terror he scrambled out from behind the bench and ran out of the hall. Pushing other students out of his way as he ran. He did not notice the food fight that had started up behind him, the Gryffindor table rising to the challenge.

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Someone was poking him, who would dare poke him. He'd bite their stupid finger off. With a tired hand he swiped out, knocking the hand away. The boy kept his head down and his eyes shut as he tried to claw a few more seconds sleep before he had to face another mindless day at Hogwarts.

Arms crossed he rested his head and sighed. Last night should have been quiet, what with Harry 'born to annoy and bedevil Draco Malfoy' Potter gone back to his own room .

Hopefully far enough away that he could keep their dreams separate at least for one night. He was a growing boy he needed his sleep. And for the past week with its exciting events, he had developed a strong wish to slam his head in a door until stars appeared.

Someone was poking him again. Snatching out a hand his head still down, Draco missed and heard someone giggling.

" I'm trying to sleep here." Last night instead of his hoped for dreamless rest he had returned to the blood red sea landscape into which he had found a dreaming Harry wondering.

Though now, the rolling sky above the sea was an oppressive constantly moving thunder cloud. Between the sea and the sky his head felt like it had been trapped in a vice and on waking he felt as though a freight train was running over his brain.

"Draco, you've got to see this." Draco heard Pansy, to whom the poking finger belonged.

"Draco is out of his mind right now. If you want to leave your name and number he 'ill get back to you." Tightening his shut eyes Draco ignored Pansy.

"Harry Potter has gone bug eating crazy." Pansy tried to entice Draco from his slumber.

"Harry Potter is by definition crazy." Draco muttered and hoped she would go back to eating her breakfast.

"He's throwing food at his little friends." Pushing himself up, Draco sighed.

"Fine, you've got my attention. Now what has wonder boy got up to?"

Pansy who was sitting across from him and could see the Gryffindor table behind his back laughed at something she could see over his shoulder.

"You have got to see the look on his face Draco. It's priceless. It looks like someone told him they had killed his owl by reaming it with his broom."

"Thanks for the mental image Pansy."

"You're welcome." Draco had felt the sudden presence of Potter as Pansy had pointed it out but he was trying hard to ignore it.

"And, now he's leaving like his pants are on fire." Pansy turned to watch Harry scuttled out of the hall so the ill-aimed bowl of baked beans sent with an ill-timed curse by Ron at Hermione smacked her hard in the side of the face.

At her indignant scream Draco was forced to look up. Tomato sauce and beans dripped down her head, and Draco remembered how excited she had been by her new hair cut the week before.

Her eyes had turned a very threatening shade of red, Draco knew when to duck. Jumping under the Slytherin table he watched a return volley of breakfast dishes from his from his house mates; toast, porridge, sausages, and the like, flew through the air towards the Gryffindor table.

The latter were busy with their own little civil food fight and were caught by surprise by the other house's involvement. Bedlam broke out.

Draco watched from the doorway of the great hall, after crawling under the tables, as Pansy managed a direct hit at Ron Weasley with a large plate of poached eggs, cackling all the time.

The teachers had either left or were watching behind glass shield. Draco wondered where Professor Snape was, usually he would have squashed the food fight faster than lightning.

With a shake of his head he wandered off back to his room for a quick nap.

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Rushing round the corner of the hallway, his mind five miles behind wherever his body was, Harry hit the newly mopped floor with the heel of his left foot and, in a move that would have got him $10,000 if someone had recorded it on tape and sent it into funniest home videos, he wind milled down the hall. Slipping and sliding on wet stone, till he reached the thrust out pole-arm of a standing suit of armour and caught himself right between the legs.

Nothing is funnier than someone being hit in the genitals. It can make anything funny. Think about it.

Take the most embarrassing, moment in your life. Say when you walked back from going to the bathroom on your first date and had tucked you skirt into your underwear.

Now imagine your date as they're laughing at you, being kicked in the groin. It's much less embarrassing now isn't it?

Curled tight into a Harry's world was a small flaming ball of hellish pain

"Harry Potter." He thought someone might be reaching for his shoulder but he didn't know as he thought his testicles were trying to crawl out of his mouth.

"Take a deep breath.." The hand jerked away from him and he heard the voice hiss in pain.

"Sssssaa, You do know when to pick your moments?" Harry took this for a rhetorical question and wished he was dead.

"Well isn't this a fine mess." If Harry had been able to listen he might have heard the bewilderment. But the harsh grinding pain was taking up all of his attention.

Through watering eyes Harry looked up into the face of Mr. Scuta. Who was frowning down at him in mild puzzlement.

Scuta helped Harry hobble his way to a nearby class room to recover. With a glass of water and a nod. Scuta left him to clear up the wet floors. After several minutes which to Harry were made up of pain filled seconds he could string together some thoughts.

The last thing he remembered was standing there in the hallway near the 'Gallery of Gossip', looking down on a bloody whipped Snape. He had been furious at the professor with some sort of divine anger. Harry whimpered, why did this sort of shit happen to him. Had he been standing at the front of the line when weird mystical crap was being handed out?.

From late last night, to this morning he had no memories. Hopefully this meant that what he did remember was just a dodgy hallucination caused by his ancestor's vices.

Taking a deep breath he tried to think clearly, which was sort of difficult what with the throbbing agony.

First of all the noises and colours he had been experiencing for the past week had stopped. No blue lights, no weird voices.

Second, He didn't seem to be missing any limbs, so nothing could have happened last night, or Snape would have ripped his arm off and beaten him to death with it.

Third, maybe if he just calmly ignored the last week it wouldn't have happened.

Fourth, he heard the sound of a mob of students outside the classroom, he needed to get to class.

Snape was probably contacting the aurors right now. Still hobbling Harry rubbed his head, bugger it to going to his first class. First he was going to the hospital ward to get an ice pack and some 'get rid of the freakin' pain' potion.

Draco woke as his peers rushed back from breakfast to clean up and grab their books. Shaking out his robe, Draco made sure his hair was perfect and joined them in their mad rush to reach class on time. He had unhappily not been able to grab a quick shut eye as for some reason he felt he should have been in pain and hadn't been able to drift to sleep in fear of something nasty happening to him.

First class was astrology, theory. They were studying star charts for the next practical lesson on Thursday night.

The sky had always fascinated Draco. Each star seemed to have been placed in the firmament of the arching sky like a diamond on a bed of velvet. When he had been a child, before leaving for Hogwarts his Mother would sit with him in the summer when the nights were warm and point out constellations she created herself.

Like 'Cerberus the Hound of Hades', which made sure all good little wizards ate their broccoli and cauliflower or he would come down and chew their kidney's out through their spines.' Narcissa had taken a proactive stance on parenting.

And in a quest to curb her stories Draco had been forced to discover what the stars might actually be saying.

Once the class had settled into place the teacher had passed out the star maps. The teacher had then retreated to their own desk to hide behind a copy of Owl Fanciers Digest.

"Read pages 54-78, and answer the questions of page 75." The class was left alone. Despite what many people would have you believe it is not undying action every minute at Hogwarts. Minutes ticked away slowly as they do in most schools till it came time to change rooms. Potions was next.

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On reaching the potions room he was surprised to see Madam Sinistra at the front of the class. He never expected to see anyone by Snape standing up there.

In fact when the time came for the cranky old bastard to retire, he thought they would need to drag him out kicking and screaming. The man enjoyed tormenting children too much to give up. Even when he was sick he loved sharing his misery with others.

Professor Sinistra was sitting behind the front desk flipping through a pile of notes. Draco caught the sleeve of a third year that was leaving the class. The little brunette her hair held out of her eyes with butterfly clips tried to jerk out of his grip but he held on.

"What's with Sinistra?" The girl glanced back at the woman who was marking something down with a red quill.

"Snape's sick."

"Why isn't he sitting like a gore crow at the front of the class?" The girl shook her head and jerked her arm out of Draco's grasp.

"How should I know. I got to get to my next class." Draco didn't watch her run down the hall to catch up with her friends.

With a shake of her papers the dark haired Professor stood. "Right, Professor Snape is ill. He will not be teaching class today. I am sure you are sad to hear this."

The sniggers of delight died down.

"We will be continuing with some theory work in your text book until Professor Snape returns. Please take out your books and turn to,' she looked down at the papers in her hands,' page 65 and read the next two chapters. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to not bother me."

With that, the professor sat back down and got back to marking papers with her red quill.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this week?" Vincent sat next to Draco in potions, turned to face Draco. Despite what most people thought, he did have two brains cells to rub together and could hold a decent conversation.

"I'm likely too. I've lost my pen knife." The blade had gone missing before the drama on the Quidditch field and Draco needed the little knife to sharpen his quills.

"That little gold thing your mummy gave you?"

"Yes that one." Draco picked at the edge of the lab table with a finger nail when the laboratory's door opened behind him. Turning around he watched Harry Potter limp in, looking worse for wear and clutching an out of class slip in his hand. Vincent leaned over and whispered in his ear.

It looks like Snape isn't the only one that's sick."

On spotting Madam Sinistra sitting behind Snape's desk, Harry sighed with relief. What ever punishment he was facing was put off for another few hours. The nurse had sniffed at him when he presented himself, gave him an ice pack and told him to get back to class with her note.

On receiving his nurse's note Madam Sinistra didn't take her attention away from here papers. "Just sit down Potter, and follow the notes of the board."

Ron had saved his usual seat and pulled his stool out for him when he hobbled over to him. "Mate, what the hell happened to you?" Ron hissed as he sat down.

"Pain, humiliation, the usual." Harry didn't bother getting out his books. Laying his face down on the desk he closed his eyes and tried not to move.

"Oh right, the usual." Ron nodded and got back to the magazine he was reading behind his work book.

"Hey check this out." He shoved the dirty mag under Harry's nose, with a view of the 'Witches gone Wild' centerfolds magically bouncing bosom Harry felt something try to stir, causing the fading pain to 'funnily enough' rise again and moaned.

"You bastard." Ron looked hurt.

"Oh, don't worry." Shaking his head Harry reasured his friend, and put it back down on the table.

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Purple steam was billowing out of the caretaker's office. Filch was using an old family recipe on his persistent cold. William who knew that Filch was going to be suffering for a good while longer, because he was the one who had cursed him, was sitting down at his own desk shoved into a corner of the already overcrowded office.

"That's a nasty burn. 'Sniff' you've got there Mr. Scuta." Filch had his head over the bowl from which purple smoke was emerging. William looked distractedly from the palm of his left hand, a bright red burn covering most of the hand with which he had touched Harry Potter.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?"

_**Authors Note**_

I have not abandonded this story. I just got distracted by many, many shiny things.


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